Coffee, Crime, and Her
by dracoandme23
Summary: Fan fiction. Criminal Minds. Spencer thought he knew everything-and he probably did-before meeting Audrey Borders. While working on an intense case, he can't stop thinking about the spunky girl he met over coffee. And if it makes you feel better about yourself, go ahead. Pretend you're secretly Audrey Borders. Sit down and let this story take you for a ride.
1. Chapter 1

_When they say you see your life flash before your eyes in dangerous situations, they aren't joking. I was losing consciousness fast, and vivid images of him flooded my mind. The first time we talked, when we went to a museum together, right up until last night. I wanted to die thinking of pleasant things. I didn't care if he killed me; if I died happy, he didn't win at all. I remembered the time I promised my father I'd survive no matter what. If not for myself, then for Spencer. He was all alone in the world, I told myself. I just had to focus on thinking and breathing._Think. Breathe. Live._Trying to fight the mist blurring my vision, I thought back to that day. If it weren't for talking to him on that_one_day, would I be here now? Fighting death? I would never know. As my eyelids began to sag, I relaxed myself. There was only room for positive thoughts-Thoughts of my life with Spencer._

"Um, how much sugar do you plan on adding to that?" I fidgeted nervously as the slouched figure of a man rotated 180 degrees in front of me. Dr. Spencer Reid's amiable face stared back at me with a delayed smile as he took a sip of his flaming-hot coffee. His attempted concealment of a burnt tongue did not go unnoticed.

"On average? Hm...five sugar cubes."

I didn't doubt his math on that one; his IQ was easily the most intimidating in the entire bureau. "Well then, how are you after all of that?"

"I've been better...ish. I'm sure you can tell, but I didn't actually sleep that much. The jet came in pretty late, and no one would shut up-I mean, everyone, well, we had a lot to discuss."

We'd gotten used to greeting each other in this way, Spencer and me. We'd run into one another and say "hi" every so often while getting coffee in the snack room. The FBI headquarters in Quantico was a huge place-and being an intern here, I didn't see him often.

"You're the only person I know that's actually honest about how they feel. It's nice to hear...though I'm sorry about the lack of sleep part."

I wasn't ever good with smalltalk, but thankfully, neither was Spencer. (Or "Doctor Reid," as I should have called him back then.)

"Hey, did you know they're thinking about adding another ocean?" This was exactly what Spencer did when he didn't know what to say-he'd respond with a random fact or statistic. Mentally thanking my brother for mentioning something about a new ocean, I played along.

"The Antarctic? Yeah, I heard." I actually didn't mind that much when he randomly changed the subject.

He looked surprised at my quick response. But I was an intern; I was used to that by now. "Um, yeah," he muttered slowly, "The Antarctic. Interesting... stuff."

"Hey, intern! You gonna spend all day filling up that cup? Maybe next time it'd be faster if I just had you bring mine to me." It was Agent Green who was speaking-or rather yelling.

"Sorry, Green bean," I spat back sarcastically.

"I was never bold enough to talk to people like that when _I_ was an intern," Spencer mused as we moved out of Agent Green's way and headed out.

"Nah. We just like joking around is all. Can't say I respect him as much as I respect you, but I still look up to him... Some."

Spencer's mouth curled into an awkward grin, but then his eyes widened as if he'd remembered something important.

"Oh! I've been meaning to ask you... Do you by chance want to go to a new science exhibit at a museum by my apartment? No one I work with is really into that sort of thing, I mean, you don't have to go... I just, um, don't want to go by myself."

_Reid had an apartment? He could be social?_It was certainly hard to picture him doing anything other than his job. I didn't have to think twice before answering-Reid seemed like an interesting person to hang out with. And either way, it would be amusing to see how he acted outside work.

"Really? Sure! That'd be awesome."

"Yeah, okay. Good."

So much for talking. I sighed as we reached the hallway I went down _every_day to get to Agent Green's pleasant office.

I had no idea Spencer was still talking to me when his voice caught my attention again. "You know what? You can call me later today. I'll let you know what time I can go. This weekend maybe? I pretty much don't do anything at all on weekends." He set down his coffee and pulled out a business card and placed it gently in my free hand. "Here. It's the second one on there." And as if on cue, his phone started to violently buzz.

"What?" He glanced down at the screen. "Oh no... Look, I'm really sorry. My team needs me, and I'm sure 'green bean' needs you, too. I'll talk to you later though! I promise. Second number on there, okay?"

He had already broken into an awkward jog in the other direction before I could answer. "Okay," I said to the empty space he'd recently occupied. I stared at the coffee on the table next to me._His_ coffee.

Doctor Reid stepped into the conference room a couple of minutes late. He was_never_ late. "Hey, did I miss anything?"

"Only if you like bad jokes. Hotch was trying to be funny again... Oh come _on_, baseball jokes are _not_ funny." She turned her attention back to Spencer. "Where were you?" It was JJ, a blond agent, who spoke. She was a couple years older than Reid and always had a way of looking out for him.

"I was chatting with a friend. It won't happen again."

"With that attitude, it sure won't." Agent Morgan, a dark-skinned man who treated Reid like a brother was always first to tease him, and today was no exception.

Spencer ignored him and took a seat at the round, wooden table that filled most of their meeting room.

Penelope Garcia, their technical analyst/"tech girl," decided to chime in and embarrass him further. "Was it a _lady_friend?" Her brown eyes twinkled with mischief behind her motley glasses as her red lips formed the humiliating word.

"Good one, but not a chance. Like_that_ could happen, Garcia, " he responded with an air of lightness.

"Believe me, darling. I _am_ a good one. Now," Penelope continued, "you all know I don't like giving you another case while you're still jetlagged anymore than you like hearing it. But listen up because this is important, _mes amis_! The Phoenix field office is investigating a series of murders and needs help." She clicked a button on her remote and pointed to the screen on the wall. "These are victims three and four. They both have multiple stab wounds to the face and abdomen-and their, um, skulls were smashed in." Garcia shuddered and moved on. "All of the victims were surrounded by tiny fragments of marijuana as well as slight traces in their pockets...and that's all we know at this point."

"Sounds like this is drug-related," Agent Hotchner, their leader, commented.

Second in command, Agent David Rossi stood up. "Guess we'll be meeting at the plane in about a half hour then."

"Get you stuff together quickly," Hotchner warned as he headed toward the door, "It'll be a long plane ride."

I knew Spencer could handle getting a replacement coffee, but I didn't care. This was an excuse to finally meet the people he worked with and talked so fondly of. Tossing my coffee in the trash (it tasted horrible anyway), I grabbed his and set off in the general direction of the BAU conference room. I'd only been there once on my tour of the building. But as I rounded the last corner, Spencer (and what must be his team) were leaving the room. At least I'd found him.

"Spencer," I said approaching him and trying my best to sound casual, "I mean, Agent Reid. You forgot your coffee." I pretended not to be too happy as I handed it to him; they had probably just been briefed on a horrible case only moments before.

"Oh, well thanks, um thank you, Audrey... I was... well, I was just thinking that." He looked incredibly embarrassed to be talking to me in front of his team.

"You're welcome... Sir. Well bye guys. Nice meeting you," I added awkwardly, waving at them all. As I turned around, I could see his team staring at me in the glass door's reflection.

"Bye, Audrey!" the blond one with brightly colored glasses called out. I looked back and smiled at her, then proceeded to get out of there as fast as I could.

As soon as I strode into Agent Green's office, I could tell he was on edge.

"Sit down," he muttered in a voice lacking expression.

"What's up?" I asked brightly. Big mistake.

"Ms. Borders," he started slowly, sounding like a parent, "Where have you been for the last ten minutes?"

"Finding my way to the BAU conference room." I figured honesty was my best option, considering he knew perfectly well where I'd been. Sometimes it sucked working with smart people.

"While it is extremely beneficial for you to befriend an agent in the Behavioral Analysis Unit, I might advise you that, pardon my expression, _flirting_ with them on a regular basis might not be the way to go."

"I don't flir-"

"Didn't say you did. Just giving random advice to no one in particular." He smirked unpleasantly. "Now if you could, and this is not optional, I'd like thirty copies to be made of this information." Agent Green handed me a large stack of manila files. "I trust it won't take you ten minutes to find the copy room?"

I certainly didn't need to be told twice.

Hours later and thousands of miles away, a searing pain ripped through Spencer's skull. He winced slightly. It had been quite a long time since his last.

"You okay there, Spence?" It was JJ's concerned voice. Opening his eyes, he turned to look at his friend beside him on the jet.

"Just a headache. Don't be worried. You know, over 85% of headaches aren't serious... It's actually because I haven't had lunch yet. Did you know that's becoming more of an issue for some Americans?"

"Oh." She resumed flipping through the case files on her iPad, obviously hoping he would do the same.

It only took Spencer a few moments to sort through and read the small pile of files earlier, but he knew he should look at least _somewhat_ busy. His coworkers usually took longer to read things than he did anyway. As he sat thinking, images of the murders flashed through his mind. He needed to piece together a profile for this new killer and would need all the time he could get.

Meanwhile, screams echoed within a rickety, rundown house sitting amidst the chaos of downtown Phoenix. The bystanders walking down the street thought nothing of it-not uncommon in these parts. It was as if they were hearing an insignificant car horn. After a few minutes or so, the bone-chilling noise ceased. Neighbors sighed in relief; in all honesty, they were happy to have peace and quiet. But they had absolutely no idea. They wouldn't have even believed the truth. Phoenix had a serial killer, and he had just struck again.


	2. Chapter 2

Agent Morgan strode into the room and stopped in front of the wall. Grabbing a thumbtack, he added another bloody photograph to their growing collage. "They found another victim, Reid. A house off of Van Burren."

The BAU had only been in Phoenix for a few hours, and another life had already been taken. "His timeline is speeding up," Spencer commented in a quiet voice. He pushed several files to the side until he found the one he was looking for. "Victim number one. White female. Early 30's. Stabbed beyond recognition. She was found two days later, yet lived in a populated area. So why did it take so long to find her? Are people really that lazy?"

"It's the neighborhood, Reid. They hear a scream, they look the other way. Simple as that."

"But at the other crime scenes, victims were found within a matter of _hours_. Now why would an unsub continue to kill in the same area if he knew the bodies would be discovered so soon? He was so careful the first time."

"Could be devolving," Morgan answered.

"It's more than that. He's probably following the police's investigation. If we hold a press conference on TV, he'll be sure to see it. Let's use that to our advantage."

"And what would we tell him to throw him off course?"

"Tell him..." Spencer paused. "...tell him that no new victims have been found."

"Reid, if we do that we'll just have another body on our hands. You realize that, right?"

"No. He'll contact us first. He has to. It could give us the missing piece we need."

"Alright. I'll talk to Hotch. You put that brain of yours to work again in here, okay?" Morgan scooted another stack of files toward Spencer and left the room just as briskly as he'd entered.

Spencer's eyes wandered over to the picture Morgan had put on the wall. It was a young woman with dark hair. Though the rest of her face was unrecognizable, her red lips were still visible. Was this really drug related? She looked like the type that could easily afford better than marijuana. The victim vaguely resembled someone he knew, but he just couldn't place it.

Pushing the thought from his mind, he considered what the killer's motive might be. There were no personal connections between any of the victims, so it was likely the unsub didn't know them either. Were they trying to blame drug dealers? Were they high _while_ they commited the crime? He needed to call Garcia.

She answered after half a ring. "Talk to me, darling."

"Hey, I need you to search for anyone arrested in Phoenix for selling marijuana in the past ten years."

"You think the unsub is older?"

"He's too organized. A teenager would be careless," Spencer answered, as if it were obvious.

"I'll call you back when I get something, smartie pants. But one more thing..."

"What?"

"What's up with you and the intern? Got something mushsy going on?" You could almost_ hear_ the smile forming on Garcia's face.

Spencer sighed. "She's my friend. Nothing more. ...Can't I keep _anything_ from you guys?"

"Nope." She laughed. "Not a chance." The phone beeped as she hung up.

Back in Quantico, I paced the copy room and cracked my knuckles impatiently. The copy machine had chosen then (of all times) to break down. Twice. Only a few more papers had to be printed, but_ beeeeeep- _the machine practically mocked me indicating its need for more ink.

It was going to be a long day.

Twenty minutes and a long lecture later, it was time to go home. I practically danced to my car as I left (more like _escaped_) the building. My red Mustang shone brightly in the setting sun. It was my most prized possession. And if cars had feelings, I'm sure it would have been glad to see me too. The whole ride home, I just couldn't stop smiling. Even when three drivers decided to cut me off, I grinned at them. In just a few minutes I was going to talk to Spencer. _Call_ him even. And he'd _asked_ me to. I knew I was being stupid, but everything felt so surreal.

Wait a minute. When Spencer said, call me _tonight_, which time zone did he mean? It was only 4:30p.m. in Phoenix right now. I paced around my apartment's kitchen looking for soup so I could make dinner. I figured I'd wait a little longer. "I never know if you're serioussss. You talk so vague and mysteriousss with me and you..." I started singing my favorite song as I emptied a can of soup into a bowl. I wasn't a great cook, so I shoved it into the microwave. "Just when I think we're on solid ground, you pull the rug out and knock me dowwwn. Hmmmm hmmmm hmmm-ouch!" I started humming in order to eat my soup, but ended up burning my mouth.

I finished it in silence and checked my watch. (Yes, I actually wear a watch.) It was 8:00-or 5:00 Phoenix time. I threw my bowl into the sink and looked at the business card Spencer gave me. I dialed his cell phone number and waited. Suddenly, I realized I was nervous. It felt like I'd been pacing my living room forever when he finally answered.

"Doctor Reid, Behavioral Analysis Unit," he said in a tired voice.

"Audrey Borders, professional loser here," I answered just as flatly.

"Wha-? OH! Yeah, hi!" Surprisingly, he didn't sound tired at all now.

"Did you figure out what time and _where_ exactly I'm meeting you this weekend?"

"Oh. Um, no. I'll have to find out online when I get home. And how did you become a professional loser?"

"I'm a natural. Didn't even have to go to school for it," I joked. "What's the name of the museum? I can look it up myself. I just got home."

"DC Academy of Sciences."

I flipped open my laptop and turned it on. "One sec while my computer starts up," I said. "It's kind of old."

"This is embarrassing," he said shyly, "but I don't even own a computer. That's why I was being so weird about the times."

"Not a bad idea, they frustrate me at times."

"Yet you majored in computer sciences?"

It was true. I'd graduated from Harvard just last year. "Seemed like a good idea at the time." I paused. I had no clue where this conversation was going. "Um, how's your case going? If I'm even allowed to ask that..."

I could hear him sigh on the other end of the line. "We're about to have a press conference-but don't worry, JJ's the one giving it."

I made a mental note to ask which one was JJ. "Why would I worry?"

My computer made a ding to break the awkward silence. I typed "DC Academy of Sciences" into the Google search bar. "It's loading. One minute." I drummed my fingers on the table and asked an incredibly stupid question. "Spencer, do you have a girlfriend?" _What?! _I mentally slapped myself as soon as I'd said it.

I could practically see him raising his eyebrows at me. He laughed. "No, are you kidding me? I... um, no." He hesitated. "Do you?"

"No, Spencer. I do _not_ have a girlfriend, thank you very much." The page had loaded a long time ago, but I wanted to keep him talking.

"Oh. Oh no! No, that's not what I meant! I meant boyfriend, I _swear_."

"In that case, I don't have a boyfriend either," I said chuckling. "Anyways, the museum closes at six. Want to go at three?"

"If we solve this case in time, yeah. Sounds good. But Audrey...?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure you like science?"

"Yeah, but mostly biology." Oops. That sounded awkwardly suggestive. Trying to play it off I added, "Why?"

"I don't know. You just seem too prett-I mean, _normal_ to like it." His words sped up quickly as he realized what he said.

"Thank you," I said calmly. "You're pretty too." I didn't let him answer. "Go get back to your case. Hope it works out this weekend...And call me sometime." I hung up before I said anything else weird.

On the other side of the country, Spencer turned his attention to the TV in the police station. JJ's pretty face filled up the screen. The headline at the bottom read "Phoenix Serial Killer Goes Quiet." Agent Reid allowed himself to grin slightly. It was bound to work out... And so were his plans that weekend.

Henry Blake's hands clenched the arms of his chair. They hadn't found his latest victim?! He couldn't let this happen. Maddie was going to be disappointed-and he_ knew_ what she did when she was disappointed. I single tear rolled down his cheek as he rose from his seat. It needed to be done. He had to tell her no matter what the consequence.


	3. Chapter 3

To be honest, I had no idea how old Agent Green was. His sharp face was always ridden with worry, so it was impossible to tell. Forty... Fifty... Thirty..? Who even cared. My thoughts clattered like bowling pins in my head as I stared at him across the desk. "So what do you want?" I asked him bluntly.

"Good morning to you as well, Miss Borders," he grumbled with spite. "Today you are going to be with Agent Robinson. He's in charge of the forgery department. You will take notes as he explains the signs of a forged check. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

"And your dress looks nice today," he commented as I stood up.

I looked down at myself before answering. "I'm not wearing a dress today. I'm wearing pants."

"I know," he answered sharply, "I just couldn't find anything to compliment you on."

I paused before exiting his office. "The feeling's mutual, sir."

Spencer's stomach grumbled loudly. He hadn't eaten anything since the morning before. He and his team had stayed up all night, and still the unsub had yet to call.

"Spence, you really need to eat something." JJ's voice sounded irritated, but he knew her concern was genuine.

"I'm not hungry," he lied with a yawn. Deep down, Spencer feared that Morgan had been right. That the press conference would only lead to another murder. It consumed every fiber of his body. To him, eating sounded ridiculous at a time like this.

"He'll call," Hotch said for the hundredth time. "He'll call us eventually. Trust the profile." No one mentioned it, but it was clear they shared Spencer's doubts.

Rossi raised his eyebrows. "And if he doesn't?"

Let's try not to think about it," Morgan answered in a grave voice. "Hotch is right."

The call didn't come for two more agonizing hours.

An agent from the Arizona field office poked his head into the room. The words that came out of his mouth could not have been better. "He called on the tip line. They're transferring the message to you now," he told them quickly.

The whole team seemed to let out a collective sigh. JJ tilted her face toward Spencer. "Will you eat now?"

He shook his head. "I need to hear the message first."

A short woman with mousy brown hair and large teeth entered timidly. She held a shiny phone in her hands with its cord trailing after her. Plugging it into the wall, she introduced herself. "I'm Becca," she squawked in a nasal tone, "I'm an intern here. Let me know if you need anything." The young woman looked at Agent Morgan as she spoke, twirling her greasy hair around her finger.

Agent Hotchner spoke up. "Thank you, uh, was it Bertha?"

"Becca."

Not as charming as our interns in Quantico, Spencer thought to himself.

Becca, (or whoever the creepy hell she was), pressed the play button on the machine and stepped back.

Ragged breathing filled the room for several seconds. Then a raspy voice spoke quietly. "I know you found her... Her ID said Stacy Westwood. A pretty one, wasn't she? Well," he laughed dryly, "aside from her facial wounds." The voice lowered to a frightening whisper. "What will you tell her family? How will you catch me? Hmm...These are all rather interesting questions."

The line clicked.

"Wow. That's really weird. He probably doesn't get a lot of dates with that voice," Becca commented stupidly, crinkling her nose in apparent disgust.

Hotch shot the girl a warning glance, but it was Morgan who spoke softly. "I think it's time for you to..."

"Shut up?" Spencer asked candidly.

Morgan pretended to ignore him. "I think you should go now, beautiful."

Still twirling her oily locks, all Becca could do was grin from ear to ear and nod. It seemed to take her forever to waltz out of the room.

"Beautiful?" Rossi asked with a snort. "I hope we don't end up hiring her anytime soon."

"Play it again," Spencer insisted, returning the focus back to the message, "Listen to the beginning-There. Hear that? He's not alone. There's someone with him. Sounds almost like a... respirator?"

Agent Hotchner stood up. "Looks like we need to revise our profile."

Special Agent Robinson was a portly man with a cheerful face. He shook my hand vigorously as I crossed the threshold into his office.

"My name is Audrey," I told him, pulling up a folding chair.

"Audrey," he repeated, "Your name means 'strength,' doesn't it? My ex wife had that name."

Great. "Yeah, it does mean 'strength.' I'm sorry to hear that."

"My name is Patrick," he said, "but you can call me Agent Pat."

"Okay." I hoped the boredom and annoyance I felt wasn't too obvious.

Other interns filtered in slowly while Agent Robinson (I refused to call him Pat), greeted them all a little too warmly at the door. He even patted one scared-looking boy on the back.

"Now that we're all settled," he announced as the last person sat down, "Let's get to business." He clicked a button on a remote and a screen came on. "Open your notebooks please. You're going to need something to write on." I yawned and nearly choked when I saw what was on the first slide. Three densely packed paragraphs in minuscule font filled the screen. I glanced at the bottom of the slide. It read "page 1 of 25."

Dear lord.

"He keeps his victims on a respirator?" Garcia asked, looking confused through the videochat.

Spencer rubbed his eyes. "Either that, or he lives with a family member on one. I'm not one hundred percent certain, just a theory."

"What if the unsub's the one on it?"

"Unlikely. It'd be too hard to control his victims. Look up anyone in the Phoenix area that owns a respirator. Don't rule out those deceased-he could be using someone else's name or inherited one," he answered.

"Keep thinking, boy wonder."

"Thanks for helping, Garcia. Let us know when you find something."

"Check this out," Rossi said, beckoning to Reid.

"What is it?" Spencer bent down to peer over his shoulder.

"Henry Blake. Arrested multiple times for possession and suspected selling of marijuana. White male, mid-thirties. His younger sister is paralyzed from the neck down."

"...and she would need a respirator. Certainly fits the profile, but..."

Rossi narrowed his eyes. "But?"

"We profiled this guy as a psychopath. Most psychopaths torture their siblings. So why would he be taking care of his younger sister all these years? I think we need to figure out how she became paralyzed. Let's ask Garcia when she calls back with more names."

They didn't have to wait long. Garcia's call came within a matter of minutes.

"Good morning again, my lovelies!" Garcia announced joyfully from the computer screen, "I scanned for people that own respirators in Phoenix, and surprisingly, the list was hella long. I narrowed it down to those living with relatives in their twenties though-and get this, the list is still crazy long. But never fear, I'm still searching. You find anything else?"

"Yeah, actually," Rossi answered slowly, "Tell me about a man named Henry Blake."

Her fingers clicked swiftly across the keyboard. "Used to be a student at NAU, Northern Arizona University, but dropped out a few months ago... just about when the murders started actually."

"So where's the university?" Agent Rossi asked.

Spencer answered the question before Garcia even had a chance. "Flagstaff, Arizona." He leaned forward in his seat. "Do you have an address for Henry Blake?" Spencer's palms began to sweat. If they didn't have an address for him, they would lose what little chance they had.

"Sent it to your phones already, guys," a slight grin forming on her face, "I'm always one step ahead of you. Duh. Tech girl out. Peace." The screen went dark.

"Let's go then, Reid."

"Me?" Spencer wiped his hands nonchalantly on his pants again.

"Yep. Load up. Grab a vest."

Hotch usually had Morgan do these kinds of things, but Hotch and the rest of the team were still out revisiting crime scenes.

Dr. Reid nodded tentatively. "Okay."

When they arrived at the house, both men drew their guns.

"You take the back," Rossi said, heading toward the front door.

Spencer nodded and moved silently around the side of the house. Its brick walls looked worn and faded after years of wear and tear. Dead grass littered the backyard in spots. Keeping his senses alert, Spencer tried the back door-it was unlocked. Never lowering his gaze (or his gun), he checked each room he passed. He found a bedroom, living room, and bathroom, all clear. He checked the laundry room, hall closets, and kitchen. Also clear. "Reid! Get in here!" Rossi's voice came from the other side of the house. Spencer ran toward the sound. Rossi was in a bedroom he hadn't checked yet. He froze as soon as he saw what awaited him inside. A respirator had been unplugged from the wall. The woman connected to it lay dead on her mattress, stab wounds littering her chest.

Rossi placed a hand on her neck to check her body temperature. "Couldn't have been dead for more than a couple hours."

"He killed her..." Spencer murmured, his eyes widening in disbelief, "but she was all he had. Why?"

Agent Rossi looked at Spencer a long time before saying anything. "Because he knows we're onto him." He pointed to the wall behind Agent Reid.

Spencer turned around and saw that a web address had been scrawled in messy writing on the wall-in blood. "Uh, Skype," he read aloud, "Henry16?"

"He wants us to videochat him...? It just doesn't make sense."

"Was that rhetorical?" Spencer asked pleasantly, "If it wasn't, then yes."

Rossi sighed. "We may have lost him, but now we have a way to communicate with him."

The whole team was gathered back at the field office, and Garcia had confirmed that "henry16" was indeed a valid address used by Henry Blake (living in Phoenix, Arizona of course.) "And If we get him talking long enough," she added, "maybe I can trace it."

"But who are we going to have him talk to?" Morgan asked in a strident voice, "We have to get this right. We can't afford another victim here."

"Someone who fits his victim type? It might surprise him," JJ suggested wisely.

Hotch responded first. "He seems to prefer young women with brown hair-None of us fit that description. If Agent Prentiss were still here, it could work...but we can't change that."

"I could wear a wig," JJ insisted, "No one would know."

Hotch sighed. "He's already seen you on the news."

"Uh, guys?" Spencer asked quietly, "Would it be possible for Garcia to Skype him from Quantico so... someone, uh, there could do it?"

"I guess so... Why?" Hotch's gaze intensified.

"Um, because I know someone who fits his victim type perfectly," he said, the words rushing out too fast, "She looks just like the victim he said was pretty." It all made sense to Spencer now. He realized why the victim had looked so familiar.

"Who?" Rossi demanded.

Spencer gulped and felt his voice crack. "Audrey."


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Note: Just wanted to thank all my readers! Especially the very first ones! Thanks, guys!_

I barely got my toe out the door of Agent Robinson's office before someone else started talking to me. It was the slightly heavy blond woman from Spencer's team. Out of breath, she panted and began to speak. Her tone was quiet but urgent. "We...I mean, they need you to... _Oh_,but it's a lot to ask...and..."

"Slow down," I stated calmly, dismissing the confusion I felt, "Didn't you fly to Phoenix the other day? Did you run here from across the _country_?" I chuckled, hoping a joke would make this easier on her.

To my surprise, she laughed too. "I'm Penelope by the way," she told me as she finally caught her breath, "_Jesus_, running in heels is hard. And no, I didn't go with the team. I do the behind-the-scenes stuff like searching the FBI database and such."

"Oh. Spen-Dr. Reid never told me that."

"Well, speaking of Spencer, he's volunteered you for a very difficult task-Oh you'll be completely safe, I assure you, but other lives will be in danger."

Other agents had begun to stare at us. Garcia was speaking louder than she realized. "Uh, can we talk about this in your office or somewhere other than here?" I asked timidly.

"Best idea I've heard all day. I'll take you to the conference room." We walked there swiftly and in complete silence. As soon as we were both in the room, the door clicked and Penelope shut the blinds tight.

"Should I sit down?" My voice sounded oddly shakey as I asked a very stupid question.

"Yeah. Pick a seat."

I eyed the large table, plopping down in a chair close to the door. I hadn't noticed how tired I was until that moment.

"Curious," she commented with a subtle grin, "Spencer always sits there."

"Should I move?" I couldn't help but to smile back. I decided I liked Penelope and her unorthodox way of approaching her job.

"Unfortunately, we don't have any time to waste. Here's the rundown. You match our unsub's victim type-and he's given us a way to contact him. We need you to-"

"Talk to him?"

"...Yes. Via webcam."

"He's going to see me?"

Penelople looked uncomfortable. "Don't worry. He can't hurt you all the way from Arizona."

"When?" I bit my fingernail, but then put my hand down. I didn't want her to profile me to be some kind of nervous wreck.

"We can do it as soon as you're ready."

It needed to be done, and I'd made my choice. "I can do it tonight," I told her, "Just tell me what I need to say."

Her shoulders relaxed as she let out a breath of air. "Oh phew! I thought I'd have to talk you into it, and I'm not really all that persuasive..." Penelope trailed off. She looked at me as if she'd said something wrong.

"Don't worry, I haven't changed my mind," I assured her with what must have been a very forced smile.

The room fell quiet. I was about to say something when she did it for me. "Turn around in a circle," she ordered me abruptly.

"Huh?" I asked. _Was this a standard procedure I was supposed to be aware of?_

"I need to see what I have to work with here... You have to look flawless for the videochat. I'm going to use a high definition camera so he can see you better."

I spun around and felt my stomach sink as I realized what she meant. With every passing minute, I was starting to feel more and more like a pig getting prepared for slaughter.

"Are you wearing makeup?" Her question caught me off guard again.

"Uh, no." I considered adding, "I never do," but I didn't want to sound too plain.

"Perfect, a blank slate," she muttered, fishing something out of her bag, "Have you ever seen this before?" She held up a small container of something tannish.

I squinted at it. "No, don't think so... What is it?"

"This is your new best friend. Mineral powder." She put it back into her purse and grabbed yet another item-car keys. You're coming with me. I'll make you look absolutely stunning at my apartment. We can do the videochat from there."

_A makeover? _It seemed silly, but it was what it was going to take to save lives. I would do it, and I'd be happy about it.

Garcia's apartment was mostly purple on the inside-purple walls, purple lamps, cutesy furniture, etc. And honestly, I wasn't too surprised. We stepped through a wall of shimmery beads and into her bathroom. Oh, and get this: her bathroom was _also_ painted purple. "I see you like purple," I commented.

She didn't meet my eyes. "It helps me focus and keeps me calm."

Just as I was about to tell her that I thought it was perfectly normal, she waved me onto the stool in front of her sink. Sitting down, I looked hesitantly at my reflection in the mirror. I looked so... Boring. My brown hair was dull and straight. It fell to my shoulders and had virtually no volume. Looking closer, I noticed that I was slouching in my seat. Fixing my posture, I looked expectantly at Penelope.

"Woo, let's get started!" she announced optimistically. (Which was hard to do, given the situation.)

After what felt like hours of my life being thrown away, she swiped my face with her brush one last time and stepped back. "All done!" She cried out with a dramatic bow.

I simply stared. I looked _weird_. My eyes had been made to look smokey with dark eyeshadow, my skin looked airbrushed, and my lips stood out in an unnatural shade of crimson. "I look like a prostitute," I told her. "No offense," I added.

"Exactly," she said without feeling, "Follow me."

I sat on Peneople's bed and listened to her rummage through her walk-in closet for several minutes. Finally, she came out holding a dusty box above her head. "I found it!"

"What is it?"

"I stole it from my skinny college roommate hoping I could fit into it someday... And apparently, since that day isn't coming anytime soon, I think you should wear it for the chat." She removed the lid.

I gawked at it. "Um... Is the rest of the team okay with this?"

She avoided my gaze like she had earlier. "Well... You see... I didn't mention it to them. But it'll be good. Trust me."

Agent Hotchner's phone beeped. He read the text aloud to Spencer and the rest of the team. "She's ready for the videochat. Everything can be up and running in five minutes. Well, sounds okay to me. We can do a practice run with you guys so Audrey knows what to do." He turned to Spencer. "You sure you want to go through with this?"

Doctor Reid looked at the table. "Shouldn't you be asking Audrey that?"

"You know what I mean."

Clearing his throat, Spencer answered quickly. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Five minutes ticked by. When Garcia's call announced itself from the laptop on the desk, JJ answered it swiftly. "Hey, Garcia. How's she doing?"

Penelope smiled coyly. "You tell me." She flipped the camera around to reveal beautiful girl lounging on a purple couch in what could only be Garcia's living room.

Spencer blinked twice and shared a glace with Morgan. "Yeah, should be okay," Hotch answered tiredly. _Was he insane?_

Audrey fidigeted in the red silk dress she was wearing, adjusting the short bottom. "Hello, everyone," she murmered nervously, "so what do you want me to say to him?"

"First of all," Hotch spoke with authority, "be confident. Agree with everything he says and try to negociate with him. Garcia is going to give you an earpeice so I can feed you instructions if you get stuck. I'm going to help you make a deal with him. Keep him talking, and let Garcia do her thing. If he stays on the chat long enough, she can get us his location. Do you follow?"

Spencer watched Audrey sit up straighter in her seat. "I follow," she answered seriously.

"Good." Hotch looked at a paper in front of him. "We're ready."

"You look amazing," JJ told her with an encouraging smile, "You'll be fine."

Garcia's voice came from behind the camera. "Ready to talk to Mr. Creeper?"

Audrey nodded as Penelope hit a few keys. The videochat was connecting.

Both rooms were completely reduced to silence as everyone held their breath. Spencer was about to lose hope when it happened.

"Well, _hello_ there." Henry Blake's voice sounded pleasantly surprised. His camera had been covered with something, so it was impossible to see the expression on his face.

"Hello, Henry. I don't suppose I've had the pleasure of meeting you before?" Audrey's eyebrows raised as her red lips twisted into a smirk.

Hotch talked into the microphone that connected to Audrey's earpiece. "Remember," he told her quietly, "You have complete control."

"My name is Audrey," she told the camera with a tilt of her head, "Pleased to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you, Mr. Blake."

Henry Blake responded in a voice that was so sickly sweet that Spencer had to stop himself before he winced. "Enchantée, mademoiselle."

Audrey didn't miss a beat. "Ah, parlez-vous français? Vous ne semblez pas le type."

Blake's voice faltered slightly, "I don't speak French dear, sorry."

"Well, in that case, neither do I. I was simply trying to keep our conversation more _private_."

"_I_ speak French! She _knows_ I speak French, right?" Spencer cried out, unable to contain himself, "I can't believe you're just standing there while she talks to this man inappropriately!"

Heat rose to Spencer's face as Audrey talked on, but he couldn't hear her. His breaths came out in ragged bursts as he fumed, unable to say anything at all. Agent Hotchner mouthed the word "leave" in his direction, careful Audrey couldn't hear him.

Spencer stormed out of the room and didn't stop walking until he was outside of the field office. Crossing the street, he found a bench to sit on. He stared blankly ahead as he collected his thoughts and studied his surroundings. He hadn't even realized he was sitting in a park; the large trees and green grass seemed out of place in a desert such as Phoenix.

_Phoenix._ _1,469,471 people according to the most recent census. One serial killer,_Spencer thought to himself_, That's less than a one percent chance of finding him, but we did. And Audrey. Audrey is talking to him right now. She's perfectly safe. We're going to find him because of her. _He focused on his breathing and tried to relax. After ten minutes of simply sitting there, he felt much better. Spencer was so relaxed that he nearly screamed when his phone vibrated. He almost chucked his phone behind him, but saw what the screen said. _Call from Audrey Borders. Quantico, VA_.

Spencer tried to hide how upset he was when he answered. "Hey." It was all he could get out.

"Hey, I have good news... It worked and, um, we kept him talking. Garcia should be able to get an address. I tricked him."

"Good." Dr. Reid kicked at the dirt with his shoe and waited for her to hang up. She didn't.

"Look, that's not even why I'm calling. Are you okay? In all honesty, Agent Hotchner wanted me to tell you instead of the team. He didn't think you'd answer the phone otherwise."

"That's not true, and... I'm fine." As much as he didn't want to believe it, Hotch was right. Spencer put his head down and ran a hand nervously through his hair. "I'm sorry. If it's even an excuse, I'm tired. Give it a few more days of no sleep, and I'll-"

"Be dead?" Audrey interrupted.

"Yeah. Yeah, I will." He couldn't help but laugh, as embarrassed as he felt.

"Are you laughing about your own death? That's not funny!" But Audrey was already laughing with him on the other end of the line. Spencer only laughed harder as he felt the stress of the week leave his body for good.

"How did you do that?" he asked her, his voice full of curiosity.

"Do what?"

"You made me laugh."

"By being funny? Or stupid...? Probably both."

Spencer knew she was kidding, but he didn't care. "You're not stupid. You're highly intelligent."

"Oh how you flatter me," she sighed.

"It's true," he told her sincerely, "You knew exactly what to say to Henry Blake." The line went silent for a beat, and Spencer started to regret saying anything.

"I thought you left the room though."

"Exactly. You were so good that it bothered me."

"Oh," Audrey said quietly, "Thank you."

"Yeah. No problem." Another awkward silence ensued.

Again, Audrey was the one to break it. "I miss you over here, you know."

Dr. Reid's tone grew solemn. "I...I miss you too. Hopefully we'll be back in a few days... I'd hate to cancel our... Well, you know."

"Our date this weekend?"

Spencer felt his face grow hot. "Yeah." He chuckled and messed with his hair again. "Our... Uh, date."

"Oh crap. I'm really sorry, but Garcia's calling me from the other room. I really wish I could talk longer, but I'm sure your team needs you too."

_Date? Did that mean they were dating? Of course not!_ His head seemed to be spinning. "Spencer? Are you still there?"

"What? Oh yeah. You know how Garcia gets when she's ignored. Bye, I guess... professional loser."

"Bye, Doctor Reid," she sang out jokingly. "Be safe."

Putting his phone away, Spencer stretched and stood up. The bench had made him feel incredibly numb, yet for some reason, he felt positively wonderful.

His team looked at him worriedly as Spencer walked into the room. He decided to question them before they could beat him to it. "Does Garcia have the address?" he asked incredulously, "Audrey told me the good news."

JJ pointed to the laptop on the table, and Garcia answered him herself. _Had she heard Audrey talking to him on the phone? _

"I do indeed, boy wonder!" she announced grandly, "You guys ready?"

Hotch sighed. "Just tell us."

"Fine then. 560 West Hazelwood Drive. It's an apartment building. And guys, be careful." JJ shut the computer and slid her gun onto her belt.

"Are we ready?" she asked.

There was no need for an answer. Wordlessly, everyone headed to the black SUVs in the front of the building. Bulletproof vests were grabbed from the trunk and put on quickly. Hotch, JJ, and Spencer piled into one car, while Rossi and Morgan jumped into the other. The message had been sent to everyone in the building, and police were already heading to the address.

"I wonder if Prentiss misses doing this all the time," JJ said to herself. "Her new job must seem boring."

"True that," Hotch replied, expertly backing the car onto the street, "Spencer, tell us where to go."

Spencer only had to glance at the map for a few seconds. "Head north on Roosevelt and turn right. Go straight until we hit 12th street. From there it's a straight shot until we hit Hazelwood."

"Sounds good." Hotch spoke to Rossi through his earpiece. "Spencer knows where to go. Follow us."

The SUVs screeched to a halt in front of the most decrepit looking apartments they had ever seen.

Spencer dialed Garcia's number, already getting out of the car. "What apartment number is it?"

"I don't know. I can't track it that far." Her voice sounded tense, "I can only get _general_ location."

He looked at Hotch. "She can't get us an exact apartment number. We're going to have to split up."

"Don't worry," JJ insisted, "We have plenty of police here to help us."

Morgan and Rossi got out of their car and ran toward the others. "What's the plan?"

"I need you to have poilce officers split up and search every apartment," Agent Hotchner said quickly. "You and Morgan take a group of men with you and go to different floors. Okay?"

"You're the boss," Rossi answered, nodding at Hotch.

He turned to Spencer and JJ. "You guys do the same."

Seconds ticked by like hours as Spencer knocked on door after door. Finally, shouts came from above him. Motioning for the police with him to follow, Spencer darted up the stairs, gun in front of him.

Henry Blake was being handcuffed and led out of his apartment. Obcenities flew from his mouth as officers forced him down the steps and past Spencer.

Spencer lowered his gun and froze as Blake's eyes locked with his. A cold smile played at his lips as he registered Doctor Reid's glare. _He knew. It didn't seem possible, but it was. How could he know that he's affected me personally?_

Watching Henry Blake get loaded into a police car, he simply stood there. Spencer felt no satisfaction; he was hallow inside.

After a while, JJ came up quietly beside him and patted his back. "Are you alright? It's over, you know. We caught him."

"I know... I was just thinking, and don't tell anyone else this, but now I'm going to be home for the weekend. And even though that's a good thing, I'm kind of nervous." He hoped he could distract JJ with what he was about to tell her-he didn't want her to know how hurt he really was.

"Why?"

"I, um, well. I have a date." He looked down at JJ and saw her fighting the urge to smile. "And uh... I have no idea what to do."

"Be yourself and just relax. That's all there is to it." JJ patted his back reassuringly again, and headed back toward the others. Spencer was revlieved; he didn't want JJ to have to worry about him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to the spot where she'd stood.

Hours later, Hotch's voice woke him up. Spencer had been asleep on the jet for the first time in days. Irritated, he sat up. Everyone looked exhausted.

"He told the police why there was marijuana at the crime scenes. He wanted to frame Mexican drug dealers," Agent Hotchner announced.

"You woke me up for _that_?" Spencer grumbled sleepily.

"I was wondering about it, so I thought I'd share. Not everyone was sleeping either."

"He doesn't mean it, Hotch," Agent Morgan said with a chuckle, "He just needs his beauty sleep for his _date_."

"What? You told them about that?" Spencer looked at JJ in disbelief.

"I didn't tell them anything... But _you_ just did."

"Go back to sleep lover boy," Morgan teased.

Shaking his head, Spencer collapsed back onto the couch and tried to ignore the banter circulating the jet. Eventually, he felt sleep's gentle touch consume him.

It was going to be a peaceful night.


	5. Chapter 5

_I refused to scream as I laid there in a sea of my own blood. He was going to cut me open again; I had seen the pictures of his past victims. I knew it would be worse than the first time. _Stop it_, I scolded myself. Spencer will find him, and he will kill him. He was going avenge my death someday. It would be okay..._

A light breeze ruffled my hair as took in my surroundings. I stood outside the DC Academy of Sciences, and it was impossible to contain my excitement. Even the most trivial details caught my eye and distracted me. I looked at my shiny black watch, and saw I was thirty minutes early. Spencer had promised to arrive at ten. Since I had nothing to do, I had already purchased both of our tickets. I was no profiler, but I knew Spencer would try to pay.

_Spencer._ I couldn't even think his name without smiling. It seemed surreal to count him as a friend of mine.

"Miss?" A woman was speaking, but lost in my thoughts, I had no idea she was talking to _me_.

"Excuse me, Miss?" she repeated, this time tapping me on the shoulder. I spun around to see a middle-aged Asian woman surrounded by what must have been elementary students on a field trip. "Can you take our picture in front of that sign over there?"

"Yeah, sure. No problem." I turned my back to the street and aimed her camera. When all the kids were ready, I counted down. "On the count of three, say 'science rocks!' Ready? Three, two, one, science rocks!" To my surprise, most of the class actually said it. I handed the woman her digital camera back as she thanked me profusely. "No problem," I repeated several times until she finally herded her students away.

I glanced back toward the street and picked Spencer out of a group of people walking along the crowded sidewalk. When he got close to the front marble steps, I met him there and simply stopped. My first instinct was to embrace him-I hadn't seen him in what felt like a lifetime. Realizing it would probably terrify him, I settled for a giant smile and a "Wow, I haven't seen you in forever."

He shoved his hands in his pockets and eyed me nervously. "It's been almost 120 hours." He squinted at the tickets I held in my hand. "Really, Audrey? I'm exactly nineteen minutes early, and you still managed to buy your own ticket. That's not even fair." His brown eyes seemed to twinkle as he said it.

"Wrong," I told him with pleasure, "I got here early and bought _you_ a ticket too." I held out the slip of paper.

"I can't take that. It's immoral."

"But I'll be offended if you don't. Interns make the big bucks anyway, so don't worry about it."

"No they don't."

"Take it or I'm going inside without you," I said in a voice that sounded almost frightening.

Spencer grabbed the ticket wordlessly and fell into step beside me. I felt the cool air of the building blow at us as we entered through the museum's grand glass doors.

A plump woman clothed in an awful shade of magenta collected our tickets with a scowl. Instead of looking at her pinched face, I examined the daunting figure looming over us. A skeleton of a tyrannosaurus rex occupied the the center of the gigantic room. "I think its arms are the best part," I told him as we moved closer, "They're pretty impractical."

"It's missing one of its vertebrae," Spencer pointed out, "but yeah. Notably impractical arms."

"What was the exhibit you were so excited about again?" I doubted he had even mentioned it.

"They just opened a planetarium here. I've always wanted to go to one... My mother would never take me as a kid. She hated big crowds."

"I went to one in San Fransisco and saw a movie about earthquakes a few years ago. They're pretty cool." I stopped myself before I asked why his mom was so strange. It was funny how little I actually knew about him.

As we worked our way through the crowd, I could see that Spencer was hurt by my comment. "So you've already been to one?"

"Not this one." I said with too much enthusiasm, in hopes of raising his spirits. "What's the movie that they're showing?"

His voice was flat. "It's about space."

While we waited in line for the museum's planetarium, I told Spencer all about where I'd traveled besides San Fransisco and about my brother, who lived in Phoenix. "But don't worry," I told him teasingly, "He's not a serial killer."

"Um, are you from Phoenix?" I sensed Spencer's mood beginning to shift from disappointment to shyness as I talked to him.

"Yeah. The weather there sucks." I stopped speaking and bit my lip. I had never felt more boring in my entire life. He was probably too afraid to tell me to shut up. "Trust me, it's not that interesting."

"No, please continue," he murmured, looking up from the ground, "You tell amazing stories."

_I did?_ "Exactly. I was so distracted by my story that I didn't notice the line was moving." Instinctively, I grabbed his hand like that of a child's and pulled him with forward with me. I didn't want to piss anyone off, and the group behind us seemed irritable.

As if to confirm it, someone farther back muttered, "Finally!"

Feeling something oddly warm in my hand, I looked down and realized I was still holding onto Spencer. As my eyes traveled from his hand to his face, I saw him looking at me with a startled expression.

I let go immediately. "I'm sorry." It was all I could think to say-we were walking into the theater now, and people were quieting down. On the bright side though, it spared me the awkwardness of explaining my apology.

The seats in the planetarium were covered in faux velvet and reclined slightly to see the movie on the domed ceiling. I sat to the left of Spencer towards the back of the room, and almost groaned when an elderly woman turned around to talk to me.

"Ever been to one of these before?" She asked me loudly.

Putting on my best I-totally-care face, I nodded. "Yes I have actually. Trust me, they're really neat."

"Back in the day, we never learned much about space and the unknown."

I forced an empathetic expression. "Oh my. I'm really sorry to hear that."

When the film finally started, the woman had to finally quit talking my ear off. The lights dimmed over the room and everyone shut up. I didn't realize how on edge I was until I felt my fingernails dig into the palm of my hand. Unclenching my fist, my eyes widened in awe. Stars and planets flew toward us on the screen and seemed within an arm's reach. With the stars and planets swirling around us, it felt like Spencer and I were lying peacefully under a blanket of stars. (Only surrounded by strangers.)

Toward the end of the movie, a giant star jumped onto the screen with a loud bang. I almost made a noise, but not because of the film. Shocked, I looked down to see Spencer's hand gripping the top of mine tightly. I acted quickly before he could pull it away. Reaching over with my other hand, I placed it on top of his and squeezed slightly. I had probably just screwed up our entire friendship.

But he made no attempt to resist. Even when the credits rolled and the lights came on, neither of us moved. I looked over at him until he caught my gaze. Ashamed, I pulled my hands away and stood up faster than necessary. I kept my face expressionless as we exited the room. In truth, I had no idea what just happened. It was time to break the silence. "Was it as cool as you thought?" I tried to be nonchalant. It wasn't one of my strengths.

Spencer seemed annoyed that I'd pulled him out of deep thought. "What?"

"I'm asking if you liked the movie."

"Yeah, it was fun."

I changed the subject before he could ask me why I'd held his hand hostage. "Uh, yeah. So where do you want to go next?"

"I don't care. You can pick."

I wanted to see _everything_. After looking at butterflies, mammoth skulls, and even sharks, I was getting pretty exhausted. Not because Spencer had thrown so many facts at me (which he had), but because I was starving. And if there's one thing I love, it's definitely food. "Is it just me, or are you getting kind of hungry?"

He paused then agreed with me in French. "Oui, j'ai faim aussi."

I rolled my eyes. "Tu es pathétique, you know that? But seriously. Where do you want to go eat?"

"There's a pretty good cafe not too far from here. Do you mind walking?"

I smiled and realized it was something I was doing a lot of lately. "I'd walk anywhere right now for food."

I don't even remember what we said to each other as we walked to that restaurant. The chilly air whipped against my face, yet I hardly noticed. It was unusual for me to feel this great. Tuning out our conversation, that was when I knew it. I felt something there between us, and it scared the crap out of me. Trusting Spencer was wrong. "Trust" simply wasn't in my vocabulary.

But after a warm bowl of soup and an hour of pleasant banter later, I just couldn't help it. I trusted him entirely. "You realize I'm paying for this right?" Spencer tried to look serious for a moment and interrupted my stream of thoughts.

"Hm, nope. I can pay for my own dang soup... It really hit the spot by the way."

"It wasn't a question. I'm paying." He intensified his gaze and looked at me expectantly.

"What?" I asked defensively.

"I was just making sure I didn't offend you... I'm sorry I sounded rude."

"Oh please," I said sarcastically, "What do you think I am? A girl?"

I basked in the glory of his puzzled expression. "You_ are_ a girl, right?" His legitimate nervousness was hilarious.

My pent up laughter probably caused me to make a weird face. "Yep. I'm of the female gender. Greetings."

Finally getting the joke, Spencer laughed. Actually _laughed_ for the first time since I'd met him. It was almost creepy in an adorable kind of way. As a result, we had difficulties talking to the waiter that came for the bill. "I'm uh, paying for it. Pfffft." The waiter looked at us like we were from Jupiter as Spencer caught his breath.

The waiter slid the credit card and handed it back to him. "Um...Well have a nice day, guys. It's always nice to see... happy...couples in here." With that, he walked away-clearly glad to be free of us. It was impossible to look at Spencer. Removing some dirt stuck under my fingernail, I willed myself to disappear. No luck.

"Couple? Who was he talking about?"

I decided to play dumb. "Really? He said that? Wow, no idea."

When we made it back to the front of the museum, it was just past three o'clock. Time sure had gotten away from me. "Hey, um, do you live near here?" Spencer's random question was out of the blue.

I didn't want to say goodbye, but I knew it was inevitable. "I live like twenty minutes away."

"Oh. Well, then while you're still out here, do you um want to come to my place? I have some books I think you'd really like... I just keep forgetting to tell you."

Any other person on planet earth, and I would've said no. This trust thing was starting to grow on me in the strangest of ways. "Totally," I said, surprised at myself.

"It's just a few blocks away. I walked here."

Spencer's apartment was practially down the road. After climbing two flights of stairs, he stopped in front of a door with "302" painted on the front. He fumbled with his keys. "It's kind of messy," he muttered apologetically as we stepped inside, "I've been reading a lot lately."

Looking around, I almost laughed at his statement. Almost everything was white and ridiculously clean. A few books were stacked neatly on the coffee table in front of a giant bookcase. "I wish my apartment looked this organized."

"Really? I'm pretty much the messiest person ever," he answered with a shrug.

_A better term would be OCD. _"What books did you think I would like?" I asked, running my finger along the countless titles.

"All of them."

My voice caught in my chest. "I-I can't barrow..._all_ of them at once, Spencer."

He smiled knowingly and turned away from me. "Then I guess you'll just have to keep coming back."

Had Spencer just tried to_ flirt_ with me? Not only that, but he'd basically just offered me unlimited access to his apartment. "Oh darn. I guess you're right." Even so, I wasn't the least bit disappointed.

"You can sit down if you want," he said quickly, "Would you like anything to drink? Is it too cold in here?"

"Water would be fine. And I'm awesome, really."

As Spencer walked over to the sink, I browsed through his books. I pulled out one that was very familiar. "1984? I haven't read that in forever."

"Go ahead and keep it. I have it pretty much memorized."

Even though it was Spencer, I still couldn't help being impressed. "That's amazing," I told him honestly. "I'm jealous."

His tone became serious as he placed a glass of water in front of me. "Sometimes it sucks to remember things."

"Everyone has memories they want to forget. You're not the only one." I took a sip and avoided looking at his face.

"What is it that _you_ want to forget?"

His question made me choke on my water. Coughing violently as I set it back on the table, I croaked, "Personally, I want to forget what just happened."

"Fair enough!" His previously unsettling laugh suddenly sounded like the most comforting noise in the world. I took another sip of water to hide my grin as Spencer plopped down beside me on the couch. His composure had been regained. "But seriously, are you okay? That would be a stupid way to die."

"I'm great. Besides, you'd try to save me. Well, probably." With his face so incredibly close to mine, it was hard not to look at him. Even in the unflattering light of his living room, Spencer looked perfect. It made me realize that I had never actually _looked_ at him before.

He swallowed hard and looked around awkwardly. "So..."

I turned my attention to the wood floor. "Um, I had a really good time today. You're pretty cool for a total science geek."

"I had fun too, and..." He picked at an invisible spot on his pants.

"And what?"

"You looked really nice today. I mean, not that you don't look nice everyday."

I felt myself blush and became very aware of how close he was sitting to me. "That's the sweetest thing I've heard in a long time...You look nice too."

My body froze for a moment, and in that instant, I felt a surge of emotions rush through my veins. I had to fight back tears as I pulled Spencer into a long awaited hug. I could never be with him, and there was nothing I could do about it.

I felt Spencer pat my back awkwardly, and pulled away slightly, my arms still around his slender frame. "I'm being completely inappropriate right now... I guess I really _am_ a girl."

Spencer let out a shaky breath and let go of me. He turned away and rubbed his eyes. "I can't do this. I'm sorry... It was stupid to keep you here so long."

He wanted me to leave, and I could certainly take a hint. Was I completely crushed? Yes. But would I still be polite? I had to be. "Sorry to trouble you." My legs seemed to tremble as I stood up and wrapped my sweater more tightly around myself. "Let me know if you ever want to read any of _my_ books. Thanks for lending me 1984 by the way."

Spencer beat me to the doorknob and turned it with a quick jerk of his hand. I reached toward his shoulder before I could stop myself, but put my arm down. I needed to quit thinking like a fool.

Leaning in so he could open the door, I felt his chapped lips peck me lightly on the cheek. I stopped breathing. _What the heck? _I stepped outside the door and touched the spot on my face where he'd kissed me. I scrambled for something to say, and desperately tried to be rational. "Um...Thanks for everything. Have a good afternoon, Spencer."

I watched him fight an extremely obvious smile. "No problem. You too."

Waving behind me, I made my way down the stairs and came to a revolutionary realization. Doctor Spencer Reid had just kissed me.


	6. Chapter 6

_Three Months Later_

__Rain beat down on the street outside and made a pleasant sound as it hit the windows of Spencer's apartment. I was curled up comfortably on the couch enjoying a French book about angry pirates. Any other night and I would've been perfectly content, but today I felt awful. I _had_ to tell him. Clearing my throat, my words torpedoed through the air causing Spencer to look up from the dictionary he was memorizing. "My internship ends tomorrow," I said louder than planned, "There's no reason for me to stay near Quantico anymore."

Spencer's face didn't betray even the slightest hint of shock. "I know. I've been waiting for you to bring it up."

I felt my chest tighten and lost the ability to form sentences. It didn't want to cry. Not here in front of him.

Spencer just stared at me blankly. I don't know why, but it was irritating the hell out of me-and it was all it took to make me snap. "All the time I've spent with you these past weeks, and still? You still don't care enough to bring it up? You know everything about me! I _trusted_ you. And you never tell me _any_thing."

"Trusted? You mean you don't trust me now?"

"Whatever," I scoffed, "_Trust_ then. Sure, I trust you."

He put down the dictionary and stepped around the coffee table to sit next to me. I knew my eyes were getting watery, but I forced myself to blink back the tears. Looking at him would only make it worse.

"You're moving on with your life, and you're upset about it?" He asked matter-of-factly. Spencer's bluntness always got the best of me.

"That's not it," I muttered angerly, "I'm thrilled about that part. Honest."

"Then what is it?"

I had to tell him the truth. Perhaps it was his earnest voice or good intentions that made up my mind... I would never know why I told him things. "If the Bureau offers me a job, I'm going to take it. I probably won't get much of a say in what city I work in, so... Um, I'm going to really miss you. I already do."

"What?" Spencer gently placed his hand on my knee and leaned forward. "Look at me." It took all of my self control, but I did it. As I stared into his soft hazel eyes, every fiber in my body willed me to look away. "You'll be fine," he insisted, "I'll visit you wherever they put you. You never know-maybe there'll be a serial killer there and the BAU will fly out. I mean, I don't want you to be in danger or anything, I just-I'd find an excuse to see you."

"I guess we'll figure that out when it happens." I paused. "Um, while I'm still here, I really need to tell you something. It's kind of personal, so promise you won't laugh at me...?"

He let go of my knee and leaned into the back of the sofa. "I promise."

I let out a ragged breath. There was no easy way to put this; it was time to drop the h-bomb. "I really like you, Spencer. You-You're the most amazing person I've ever met."

Seven beats of complete silence ticked by, and I felt my hands getting clammy. I watched him lace his fingers together nervously before answering. "How much?" His voice cracked as he said it.

"What?"

"How much do you like me?"

This was absolutely ridiculous... What were we? In third grade? "You're a profiler... You already know how much."

Spencer sat up abruptly and spoke so quietly that I had to strain to hear him. "Did you...um, Did you know that I like you too?"

I looked down at my crossed arms and shook my head.

"You're the wittiest person I know-not to mention intelligent, sweet, and well... You."

It was too hard to hold back my emotions for another second. I broke into a fit of violent, unattractive sobs and burried my face in my hands.

"Did I make you uncomfortable? I didn't mean to... um, offend you. Just please... Audrey?" He reached for the box of tissues on the table next to him and placed the entire box in my lap. I grabbed one and blew my nose loudly.

"I'm fine. It's not you, I just... had no idea." I had no clue what to say. Wiping my nose, I used the dirty tissue as an excuse to walk away. After I deposited it in the kitchen trashcan, I turned around and stopped short. Spencer was leaning in the doorway.

"I should've told you," he said guiltily as I moved toward him, "I really wanted-" But I had already thrown myself into his arms. Much to my surprise, he didn't recoil or stagger in the slightest... He acted like it was something we did all the time.

Minutes passed, but we just stood there clinging to each other in his dark kitchen. The soft cashmere of his sweater rested reassuringly against my face, and I could hear his heart racing. It was beating so fast, I was worried he would have a heart attack. I opened my mouth to say something, but he interrupted me. "Audrey...?"

I felt myself grin almost involuntarily. "Yeah, Spencer?"

Nothing could have prepared me for what happened next. In one swift motion, Spencer placed his hands on either side of my face and kissed me. _Holy crap. _I shut my eyes to block out my dim surroundings. Pretending my life was perfect and not a total mess, I willed myself to ignore the imminent future.

His kisses were gentle and timid in an almost graceful kind of way. Giving into his delicate lips, I felt almost happy... But it couldn't last. Realizing I was pulling away, Spencer let go of me without a sound.

"Wow, it's getting late," I commented as I squinted at the time displayed on the stove. Knowing Spencer, all of his clocks were probably set to the _exact_ time.-So it was exactly 10:47 p.m.

His voice sailed through the darkness in a shaky whisper. "It's so hard to watch you go-"

"I don't recall saying anything about leaving," I broke in quickly.

"But you _alway_s leave after you say 'it's getting late,' so it was definitely implied."

I couldn't help myself. "Um, could I stay here then? For the whole night?"

The look on his pale face made me fear he would fall over dead. "Mmhmm." It was the only noise he seemed able to make.

"Thanks... I'm tired, so I'm going to get ready for bed. Alright, Spencer?"

He nodded violently and repeated himself. "Mmhmm. Yeah. Um, okay then."

Brushing past him into the living room, I grabbed my purse and headed into the cramped bathroom. I was dreaming. There was NO way this was real. _You made out with Spencer, stupid_, an annoying voice in my head jeered, _you're such a desperate slut_. Ignoring my conscience, I rinsed off what little makeup I was wearing and looked into the mirror. Not surprisingly, it was spotless. Never in my life would I have the pleasure of meeting a cleanlier man.

My reflection did me no justice-I looked even more exhausted than I felt. I smiled slightly to reveal my teeth. _How was I going to brush them?_ Digging through the miscellaneous contents of my purse, I came across I small bottle of mouthwash. It would have to do.

After using the toilet, I strode into what could only be Spencer's bedroom. A large desk filled the corner by the closet. I marvelled at the stacks of case files and crime scene photos that littered its surface. Turning my head, a full sized bed made of dark walnut occupied the majority of the room. Placing my purse on the floor by the bed, I gravitated toward the closet without even thinking about it. Designer brand shirts, sweaters, ties, and slacks had all been organized according to color. Reaching out to touch the sweet-scented fabric, a voice made me jump.

"Um, can I... help you there?"

I let go of the shirt and whirled around. "I-I'm sorry. Um, I just couldn't help but notice you sort your clothes by... color."

"Well, yeah. It helps me find things faster."

Speaking of clothes, I looked at what Spencer was wearing. "You sleep in your clothes?"

"I wouldn't know. I usually fall asleep sitting on the couch."

Sighing, I sauntered over to him and slid his tie off over his head. "If you're going to sleep, don't strangle yourself."

"I'll remember that," he answered, plopping down on the mattress. As Spencer started taking off his shoes, I climbed onto the other side of the bed.

"Nice socks," I commented, smirking at the red-striped pattern.

Spencer blushed and changed the subject immediately. "Uh, are you comfortable sleeping in that? I can find you something else to wear if you want."

I glanced down at the baggy shirt and grey sweatpants I had on. "Really? These are practically pajamas."

"Fair enough," he said, standing up and grabbing something from his closet, "I'm going to change really fast-you can go ahead and get some sleep."

"Thanks," I mumbled awkwardly.

He turned off the light with a flick of his wrist and I listened as he shut the bathroom door.

I broke into a panic as soon as I shut my eyes. _I'm in Spencer's bed, I'm in Spencer's bed, I'm in his BED. Beds are for SLEEPING though, _I reminded myself forcefully, _Chill the heck out. _The bathroom door squeeked back open, and I listened to his soft footsteps as they shuffled accross the wooden floor. The mattress rose slightly as he sat down. "I'm going to go sleep on the couch, okay?" he whispered.

"Don't be silly. There's plenty of room for you here... I trust you, remember?" Even through the darkness, I worried he would see me blushing.

Spencer slid under the covers without an argument. "Do I disgust you?" he asked after a brief period of silence.

"No... Why?"

"It's just... I disgust myself sometimes. It's like I'm a monster."

"My vision is perfect, and in my most professional and unbiased opinion, you don't look like a monster. Do _I_ look like a monster?"

"I took my contacts out, so you just look like a semi-familiar blur of darkness right now."

"Thanks, Spencer," I laughed dryly, "I feel so much better."

"Just being unbiased," he teased, rolling over to face me. "Have you ever been afraid of something incredibly nonthreatening?" His voice had grown much quieter, and I sensed he was about to divulge something personal.

"Well, I'm afraid of snakes... but they're not exactly nonthreatening creatures."

"Um, this is silly," he continued, "but I'm actually really afraid of the dark."

"Why?"

He paused tentatively. "Because nightmares happen in the dark."

I reached over to brush the hair from his eyes. "How long have you been having nightmares?"

"Since forever."

As we laid there, I realized how little I actually knew about Spencer. I hadn't known anything about his fears or what was haunting him at night. Feeling incredibly ignorant I replied, "Don't worry about it. It happens to everyone-and I'm right here."

"Yeah," he murmured with a laugh, "You are."

Messing up his hair, I leaned in to kiss him quickly. "Goodnight, Spencer... Don't hesitate to wake me up if you get scared."

I flipped onto my stomach, facing away from him as he spoke. "Goodnight. Sweet dreams... Love you."

Assuming it was something he usually said to his mom, I ignored the fact that Spencer had just proclaimed his love for me and shut my eyes. "You too."

I slept soundly for the rest of the night.

Morning came with the ring of Spencer's cell phone from the other room. Rubbing my eyes briefly, I gently shook the sleeping body next to me. "Your phone is ringing," I whispered softly, "I'll bring it to you. Just a second."

"Hm...okay... Thanks," he called out groggily and I left the room. As soon as I handed Spencer his phone, I gave him some privacy. Stumbling into the kitchen, I put some bacon in the microwave and waited. An argument was drifting partially into the kitchen. I had never heard Spencer sound so distressed.

"Are you sure?" he kept saying into the phone, "Are they sure it's her?" I shut my eyes and told myself it was fine-probably something to do with work. The microwave beeped, making me gasp. I pulled the plate out and slumped into a chair at the table.

"I made you bacon," I announced as soon as Spencer stepped into the room, "Let me know if-"

"She's gone," he muttered, looking down at me through tears, "and they c-can't..."

"What is it, Spencer? _Who_ is gone?"

He sat down opposite me and stared at the table's unforgiving surface. Glancing up at me, I registered a terror I had never seen in his eyes. As he spoke, I watched his heart breaking before me. "My...My mom."


	7. Chapter 7

Everything smelled wonderful. That "just-rained" scent filled the air in my mustang as we turned onto the freeway. I didn't know what to think about, so I just focused on my driving. Spencer had stopped crying and was staring expressionlessly into the distance. A bit of music would have lightened the mood, but it seemed inappropriate at a time like this. I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel and willed time to move faster.

Spencer cleared his throat loudly. "You're speeding," he stated, still looking ahead.

"I know." I didn't slow down, but Spencer shut up about it.

When we reached headquarters, I parked in Spencer's reserved spot and turned off the car. Neither of us moved. Silently, I leaned over and unbuckled his seatbelt. "We have to go," I murmured in my serious voice, "They're waiting for us."

He slouched in his seat. "We have time... I just..."

"Three minutes, Spencer."

"Actually, we have four," he corrected.

I didn't want to waste any more time, so I got right to the point. "They're going to try their best, Spencer. They'll find your mom."

"Do you promise?" His eyes met mine, making it impossible to lie.

"No, I can't promise you that... But I promise to help you in any way I can, okay?"

Spencer nodded and opened the door. Following his lead, I opened mine too and got out. "Come on, Spencer," I commanded again, "Get out of the car." When he finally did, he just stood there. Shrugging my purse onto my shoulder, I shut his door for him and pulled poor Spencer into my arms.

"Stop it," he muttered dryly. "Let go."

I tried not to let his words sting as we walked to the building in silence. Spencer's depression was so bad I could practically _feel_ it. I bit my fingernails for something to do and paced in front of the elevator. When the doors finally shut smoothly to drown out the busy lobby, we were alone. "I'm sorry," he said out of nowhere, hitting the button for our floor.

I made no effort to hide my sigh. "It's fine. I get it." As we rose into the air, I stole a glance at him. He was studying my face. "What?"

"It's just...You look beautiful when you're not wearing makeup." The doors slid open, and I barely had time to comprehend what he'd said. A swarm of people entered the elevator and were forcing us out.

"Thank you," I called after him as we parted ways, "We'll talk later, okay?" I watched Spencer nod as he moved in the opposite direction. Today would certainly involve a lot of worrying.

Lovely ol' Agent Green greeted me with his typical nasty grimace. He was actually starting to remind me of Professor Snape. "You showed up on your last day? What a surprise!"

"Not by choice, green bean. I'm just a nice person."

To my surprise, he smiled at me. "Yes, that you are. Now, why not have a nice and easy day? I realize you usually just make copies, so today we'll mix it up. You can sit in here and help me organize things."

I put my bag on the desk and bit my lip. "Joy."

After three hours of sorting through filing cabinets, my fingers were going numb. "Can we take a break?" I complained finally.

He set down the file he was holding and nodded. "Sounds good to me." Agent Green stood up from his chair, readjusting his shoulders slightly. "Come over here. There's something I need to tell you."

Awkwardly, I stepped around his desk to face him. "What is it?"

"Audrey, Audrey, Audrey... I realize we've only known each other for a few months, but I feel a really _special_ connection between us." I didn't like where this was going. "Do you think maybe... You and I...?" I froze where I was. _Agent Green had feelings for me? _"I realize I'm forty-two, but you know." I don't remember what he said after that. My whole world came crashing down as he forced his lips onto mine. Stumbling backwards into the desk, I felt his strong hands catch me. I couldn't move. _Get off me! _my mind shouted. _What about Spencer? _As soon as I thought of Spencer, my brain launched itself into action. I brought my knee up sharply, hitting Green squarely in the groin.

"Get away from me, you bastard!" I screamed vehemently. "I_ hated_ you, and-"

"But you didn't resist," he said through clenched teeth as he sank to the ground, "How would I-"

"How would you know?! You've been terrible to me, and I've been worse back! Did you think I was flirting with you? Is _that_ why you got so jealous when I was with Doctor Reid?!" I stood there panting until I caught my breath. "Don't try that ever again. Do anything stupid, and you can be sure I won't stay quiet." There was nothing else to say. With that, I took the stack of files on his desk and threw them to the floor.

I didn't stop running until I reached the bathroom. Collapsing into one of the stalls, I let the tears flow down onto my silk top. My entire career with the FBI had just been shattered. There wasn't a way in hell I'd get hired now-Agent Green would make sure of it. What would I tell Spencer? That I just changed my mind about the Bureau? It was too terrible to think about. Sobbing into my purse, I thought of my family. My father was dead and my mother had disowned me. If she knew what happened, I was sure she'd laugh. _Did I deserve this? _

A toilet flushed several stalls down and reminded me I was not alone. I prayed the person would just wash their hands and leave, but they didn't. A knock came from the other side of my stall door. "Is everything okay in there?"

I stood up and hesitated before opening it. "Who is it and what do you want?" I demanded.

"It's Jennifer."

Deciding it would be rude to hide my face any longer, I dabbed at my eyes and unlocked the door. It was the other blonde woman from Spencer's team. We stood there in silence as recognition hit us simultaneously. "You're from the BAU," I exclaimed stupidly.

"And you're Spencer's girlfriend," she said extending her hand, "Nice to finally meet you properly."

_This was properly?_ "Um no, we're not dating," I managed to get out, "And yeah, nice to meet you. I'm really sorry you have to see me like this..."

I felt the legitimate concern in her eyes as she looked at me. "What happened?"

There was no time to think of an acceptable excuse. "Um, I'm having a really chaotic day... And I can't go back to Agent Green's office. Just please... Don't make me."

"Why not?"

The room was starting to feel extremely warm. "I... Uh, he made me very uncomfortable just now." I waited for a response but came up empty. "He kissed me."

"Oh... Oh my goodness...Was that supposed to happen?"

I couldn't believe it. "_No_. No, it was not."

Jennifer patted my shoulder reassuringly. "You need to tell someone about this."

I grimaced as I looked at my shoes. "I can't... But thank you for listening. And um, do you think it'd be okay if I went home?"

"Come with me. I'll see what I can do."

Jennifer exited the bathroom and led me-of all places-to the BAU conference room. Never in my life had a room felt so small. I listened as Jennifer made excuses for me, but kept getting distracted by the look on Spencer's face. "She could definitely benefit from so BAU experience, and besides, it's her last day here," she continued, "I think it's a good idea."

Who could only be the "Hotch" Spencer talked about answered her. "Of all the cases we're working on, you choose this one? Is that really wise?"

"We don't even have a _case_ yet, Hotch," Jennifer shot back, "No one's invited us _in_."

"Well, if she can think of a way in, I could tolerate it. As long as Reid has no objections, she can stay."

I shifted my attention back to Spencer and prayed he'd say yes. There was _no_ way I was going back to Agent Green's office.

Spencer irritably clicked the top of his pen as he spoke. "Yeah sure, let's just invite _everyone_ into this investigation. Oh and seriously, I don't care. What's that thing she always talks about? Trust? I'll go with that. I _totally_ trust you."

Hotch was silent for several seconds. "Very well. Take a seat. Let's focus on how to deal with the Las Vegas field office." I couldn't believe it. He'd actually ignored Spencer's sarcasm.

No one had given me any details about the case, and as I hesitantly sat down, I was starting to get a bad feeling about this.

The dark-skinned man next to me spoke up. I peered over at his ID and saw it read MORGAN, DEREK. "They realize we could find Diana a whole lot faster if they just accepted our help, right?" he pointed out, "Timing is critical here. Not to dampen your spirits, Reid... But we have less than twenty-four hours."

I couldn't take it anymore. "Since we obviously don't want to mention what we're talking about, I'm going to take a wild guess here. Tell the Las Vegas field office that you've seen whatever this is before-tell them if they're not careful, people will go missing and end up dead. It's not really a lie because you _have _seen that before."

The room fell silent and made me fear my assumption had been wrong entirely. Jennifer spoke first. "She's right. I know we've all been thinking the same thing... It doesn't matter if the case is personal."

_Personal._ As soon as she said it, I knew I was one hundred percent correct. "It's about Spencer's mom, isn't it." I didn't ask it as a question, but Jennifer answered anyway.

"Yeah."

I looked at the table and tried not to sound disrespectful. "We need to call them... Now."

After a moment of silence, Hotch agreed. "I'll go call the field office," he said with a sigh. No one made a sound as he left the room. Waiting for Hotch to come back, we all were occupied with our own thoughts and worries. If we weren't invited in, one thing was certain-Spencer's mother would be dead. And did his mom even know about me yet? As if Spencer were thinking the same thing, he shot a glance in my direction.

Footsteps interrupted my train of thought. Looking up, Hotch seemed relieved as he reentered the conference room. "Everyone get ready," he announced, "We're going to Las Vegas. Don't worry about a change of clothes-we should only be there for about a day."

"Even me?" I asked in shock.

"Even you. Don't get too excited yet though, I have a different assignment for you and Doctor Reid. Stay behind after everyone leaves."

I nodded obediently as the rest of the team trickled out the door. Only me, Spencer, and Hotch remained seated at the table.

"The two of you will not be going to Las Vegas," Hotched stated tiredly, and before Spencer and I could protest, he continued. "Instead, you will be investigating a rather interesting piece of evidence in Phoenix."

"What evidence?" Spencer blurted out, "My mom's never even _been_ to Phoenix."

"An envelope containing a letter and several strands of blonde hair was dropped off at a Phoenix police station early this morning... The letter was entirely in code except for the last sentence. It said, 'Diana Reid is dying, but still very much alive.' We need you to crack the code, Spencer. Either way, you need to stay away from the main investigation."

"But it's-"

I cut Spencer off abruptly. "He's right. You can't go to Las Vegas. Your feelings will get in the way."

"She's the only person that's ever cared for me, and I sent her away," he protested," Don't you understand? I have to do this."

Hotch ignored him completely. "Wheels up in thirty. The two of you are headed for Phoenix-and that's an order."

The three of us stood up, but after Hotch left the room, Spencer hesitated in the doorway. Without turning around, he addressed me. "Couldn't stay out of it, could you?"

"Look... I can explain..." But what was I going to say...? Tell him I kissed Agent Green?

"You just want a position in the BAU, I get it. Your actions speak quite clearly."

I was too stunned to say anything. "That's what I thought," he spat angerly. Pushing past him, I hurried down the hall after Hotch. It was going to be a terrible plane ride.

Several hours later, our small jet touched down at Sky Harbor International Airport. Spencer had avoided contact with me as humanly possible in a cramped space. It looked like there was nothing I could do. I waited for Spencer to gather all of the files before exiting behind him. As we walked toward the black SUV waiting for us on the runway, I started to get excited. It was my last day, and I was actually going to do something productive. If Spencer weren't giving me the cold shoulder, I would have felt exactly like James Bond. Probably.

When we arrived at the field office, a man who introduced himself as "Agent Joe" led us into a tiny room packed with stacks of boxes. Each one had the word "evidence" hastily scrawled on the side. I watched as Agent Joe lifted up of the boxes and set it on the table. "The letter is in here. Anything else you guys need?"

"Some scratch paper, a whiteboard, and a pencil," Spencer said immediately.

I knew he decoded things all the time, but I wasn't going to let him intimidate me. "Make that_ two_ pencils please," I added politely. The irritated look on Spencer's face was absolutely priceless.

Before I even had a chance, Spencer tore the lid off the box and pulled out the letter. It looked to be about ten pages long, but he finished reading it in less than twenty seconds. "It looks like it's in-"

I cut him off. "Binary code."

Spencer looked at me. "Do you even know how to-"

"Yes. I know how to decode it. Give me half of the pages, and we can get this done faster." Reluctantly, he slid one page of it over to me. "I said _half_," I snapped.

"Prove yourself."

I sighed. Agent Joe still hadn't returned with pencils, so I would have to do this in my head. The first order of business was to convert all of the ones and zeroes into regular, workable numbers-also called "base ten" or just "decimals." I read over the paper carefully as Spencer analyzed my expression. It read:

100 101 1 10010

10011 10000 101 1110 11 101 10010

100 1111

11001 1111 10101

1101 1001 10011 10011

11001 1111 10101 10010

1101 1111 1101

Easy. After I'd finished converting the first number mentally, Agent Joe came in with the pencils and paper. Scribbling everything down quickly, I converted the first line to 4, 5, 1, 18 and stopped. If I used the fourth, fifth, first, and eighteenth letters of the alphabet, that translated into DEAR-which made sense at the beginning of a letter. I handed my paper to Spencer so he could check. "It appears he's using pretty much the easiest form of binary code. I'm surprised the police didn't crack it," I said quietly, hoping other agents couldn't hear.

His eyebrows knitted together in concentration as he read it. "You passed the test," he muttered tersely, passing my work back to me, "Finish the page."

Two hours later, we finished decoding the letter. It was a bitter disappointment when it was translated in its entirety. "It's just ten pages of ranting about nothing in particular," I said irritably, "It's just taunting you about your mom."

Spencer had a very different reaction. His skin grew pale as he reread the letter, and it looked like he was going to be sick. "He says... He says he's going to hurt her..." Spencer stuttered, "What is he going to do?"

I looked at my lap. "I don't know. Let's call Hotch and tell him though."

Probably to make me mad, he left the room with his cell phone and shut the door. Spencer didn't want me to hear the conversation apparently. After what felt like forever, he strode back into the room and took a seat. "It's a trick," he murmured, "I know it."

"What is?"

"_This_." He indicated where we were sitting with his hands. "A few months ago, Hotch told me my friend Emily was dead."

"Oh...I'm really sorry."

He laughed dryly. "No, it's actually funnier than that. It wasn't even true-she's alive and well."

"Then wh-"

"Why?" he interrupted, "Because he was trying to keep me 'safe' or something. I can't trust him anymore. Not with anything. It's pretty clear he's just trying to keep us out of the way."

I sighed and crossed my arms. "You don't have to be an ass about it. I can see why he did it."

"I thought my best friend _died_. You think that's completely fine?"

"That's not it. I'm just saying that he's right to leave you out of things this time. You're obviously an emotional wreck."

"_I'm_ an emotional wreck?" Spencer grumbled, his voice rising, "You're the one who keeps bothering me in the first place!"

I didn't know what to say, so I just let it out. "Agent Green kissed me today, Spencer. I couldn't... I had to get away from him, so... And Jennifer found me crying in the bathroom, and-and well she took me with her back to the BAU conference room, so..." I couldn't even talk anymore. I was already crying hysterically. "I'm... so... sorry!" I shouted at him. I could only hope snot wasn't running down my face as I turned away from him.

Spencer's jaw literally dropped. "Were you going to tell me about this...?"

"I don't know," I admitted, "It's pretty humiliating."

"JJ didn't tell me," he said slowly, "Does anyone know?"

"She didn't tell anyone. She's the only one who knows."

My breakdown was cut short by Spencer's phone. Buzzing across the table, the screen read "Aaron Hotchner."

"You should get that," I managed to mutter.

Spencer leaned across the table to squeeze my hand before answering. "Hey, Hotch. Really? Already?! That's great. Yeah. Oh... Well, keep trying. Us? We're doing fine over here. Will do." He hung up. "Great news. They have a suspect in custody and are questioning him now."

I beamed at him, forgetting my tears. "See? Everything is fine. They have everything they need to find her now."

Before I could add anything else, Agent Joe burst into the evidence room. "Guys, this is good. An anonymous tip just came on the line. You guys might want to check out this address-it's probably nothing, but it would give you something else to do." He handed me a slip of paper with an address written on it and shrugged. "They said it was someone who might have known your mom, but get this: she doesn't want "Spencer" to come. This lady didn't like you too much apparently, Dr. Reid."

As soon as Joe left the room, Spencer frowned. "I've never been to Phoenix with my mom. No one knows me here."

"Relax," I insisted, "Let me go check it out. I'm sure it's someone who moved. The address is 269 East Bethany Home Road. Ever been there?" He shook his head. "I'll be right back," I promised, "Look for more hidden clues in the letter."

Agent Joe let me borrow one of the office's SUVs and even offered to go with me. Based on his distracted expression, I could tell there were other things on his mind. "Don't worry about it," I kept insisting, "I'll be right back." On the way there, The Strokes came on the radio, and I turned up the volume as loud as I could stand it. I was being to feel much better-My life finally was back to normal.

Pulling into the driveway, I cut the engine. A large yellow house with a beautifully manicured lawn stood before me. After walking up the front steps in awe, I rang the doorbell and waited. "Just a minute!" a man's voice called through the door. After a few seconds, it flew open to reveal a slender man with light gray hair. "I'm Tom," he said in a vaguely familiar tone, "She's in the back. And please, come in."

I smiled at his hospitality. "Nice to meet you. I'm Audrey." Following Tom down a hallway, he told me about how the house belonged to his grandmother and how he had talked her into calling the police. He claimed that you never know when small details can become valuable. Suddenly, the man opened a door to reveal a small bedroom. Over the back of an armchair, I could see part of a woman's head.

"Bertha, you have a visitor," Tom said slowly, "She's from the police station."

I waited, but "Bertha" said nothing. I moved closer to the chair. "Miss," I said carefully, "I just have a few questions to-" _Oh god._ My breath caught in my chest as I saw not who but _what_ was sitting in the armchair. A frail skeleton wearing a faded nightgown was sitting upright, a brown wig placed on its head. I couldn't even scream as it sunk in. "Is that...?"

"Real?" Tom asked, "Indeed."

I gulped and felt the saliva run down my parched throat. My first instinct was to run, but Tom was blocking the doorway. As if he had read my mind, he threatened, "Don't even think about running. I'll slit your throat before you can even move." Pulling a knife from his pocket, he approached me slowly as he swung the knife back and forth almost childishly. I started retreating, but it only made him advance faster.

"Please," I reasoned, "Other agents are on their way right _now_."

Tom only smirked. "You're a liar, aren't you? I sensed it the moment we met... Enchantée, mademoiselle?"

_Henry._ Tom was Henry Blake... How could I be so stupid? _Calm down_, I told myself, _You read the address to Spencer. Distract him until Spencer gets here. _"Don't tell me you don't remember," he continued, "Though I must say, you looked much prettier on the chat."

Suddenly, a sharp pain ripped through my abdomen. I grunted as I collapsed onto the floor and clenched my teeth. As the blood-soaked knife left my body, a whole new kind of pain consumed me. It was so unbearable that I couldn't even find the strength to cry. "Does it hurt?" he asked wickedly, "It must feel just _terrible_." I closed my eyes and tried to tune him out. If I talked, I would certainly scream-and knowing Henry Blake's profile, it would only satisfy him more.

It only grew harder as his blade sank into my skin once more. My fingernails dug into my flesh as I willed myself to think of something else. _Anything_.

When they say you see your life flash before your eyes in dangerous situations, they aren't joking. I was losing consciousness fast, and vivid images of him flooded my mind. The first time we talked, when we went to a museum together, right up until last night. I wanted to die thinking of pleasant things. I didn't care if he killed me; if I died happy, he didn't win at all. I remembered the time I promised my father I'd survive no matter what. If not for myself, then for Spencer. He was all alone in the world, I told myself. I just had to focus on thinking and breathing. Think. Breathe. Live. Trying to fight the mist blurring my vision, I thought back to that day. If it weren't for talking to him on that one day, would I be here now? Fighting death? I would never know. As my eyelids began to sag, I relaxed myself. There was only room for positive thoughts-Thoughts of my life with Spencer.

I refused to scream as I laid there in a sea of my own blood. He was going to cut me open again; I had seen the pictures of his past victims. I knew it would be worse than the first time. _Stop it_, I scolded myself. Spencer will find him, and he will kill him. He was going avenge my death someday. It would be okay...

After I was stabbed for what I counted to be the twentieth time, my mind finally had mercy. I was out cold. "Spencer..." I whispered into the darkness, "Please..."

_Author's Note:_

_Dear readers,_

_Thank you again for your support! I hope I've met your expectations with this chapter. (Let me know!) Oh! If there are any errors with my binary decoding skills, feel free to check my work. I simply used decimal numbers 1-26 to represent the alphabet. (If you don't know how to convert numbers to "base ten," then don't complain about it and waste my time. Either way, I'm sure I got it right.) Also, check out the song "Basic Space" I have posted on the side. It's awesome and actually fits the tone of this chapter really well. I'm sorry about any spelling/grammar errors as I wrote this at one o'clock in the morning. _

_Love Always,_

_AK_


	8. Chapter 8

Apologies in advance for the "dark" and mildly disturbing content in this chapter... Nothing bloody happens, but it's a little weird. Not scary-It's just awkward. There. That's how I'll put it.

Light screened through my eyelids and brought me to my senses. "Sit up," a voice commanded me.

"Am I... dead?" I wondered aloud into the cold air.

There was no answer. The scratchy voice merely repeated itself. "Sit up. Now."

Opening my eyes, I propped myself up on my elbows and winced. Any sudden movement sent waves of pain up and down my torso. Slowly, I leaned against the wall and managed to adjust to the dim light.

"Good girl," it mused, "Now tell me, do you want them to die?"

I looked at the ceiling and realized the voice was coming from a yellowed speaker. "Who?" I asked, glaring at it.

"Oh, so they didn't tell you did they? Doctor Reid decided to play superhero and came to rescue you... But now he's even worse off than you."

"Where is he?!" I demanded.

"That's really none of your concern. But if you must know, he is in this very house."

My groan echoed off of the block walls as I allowed myself to slouch slightly. "Please... What do you want from me? I just want to go home."

"Clever girl, aren't you? Aaron Hotchner should be on his way... When I capture him, I'll tell you. If you really want to help Doctor Reid, you'll stay alive for the moment." With that, the speaker crackled, and I knew we were done talking. Why did Hotch have to be here before I could give Henry Blake what he wanted?

All this thinking was making my head hurt. Before I knew it, I had collapsed back onto the cement floor. Consciousness came and went as I struggled to follow Blake's instructions. He wanted me alive, so I was going to be.

I had no idea how much time had passed before the speaker woke me up again. "He's here." That was all I heard before Henry himself walked into the room. Trying to slip past him and out the door wasn't even in the realm of possibilities. I would be lucky if I could even stand. "Audrey," he purred as he walked toward me across the filthy floor, "Are you ready to give me what I want?"

"Sure," I croaked, "Let's just get it over with."

"Ah. The 'sooner the better type,' Audrey. I really like that about you." He stopped when he was about a foot away from me. "Wait here please. I'm going to give you some advice though. When I bring Doctor Reid and the other agent in here, don't react. Any sign of distress will result in pain for all three of you. Are we clear?"

"Crystal."

A smile spread across his face as he answered. "I won't be long, so don't worry. I'd hate to keep a lady waiting."

As Blake left the room, I forced myself to sit up again. I couldn't let Spencer see me like this. Praying he wouldn't notice my blood-soaked shirt, I waited. Something rattled down the hallway.

I nearly cried with relief as he entered the room, but stopped myself just in time. Spencer had a black eye, but looked to be otherwise fine. Our eyes met for a split second as he was shoved forward. Desperately, I tried to mentally reassure him it was alright. We'd been trained for this. We would make it.

Finally, both Hotch and Blake made it through the heavy steel door. I looked at Hotch and Spencer's hands and noticed they'd been bound with rope. Forcing them both against the wall, I watched Henry produce a knife from his pocket and free them from their restraints. Neither one made a sound.

"Well," Henry announced theatrically, "Let the show begin!" Moving toward them again, he forced Spencer into a pair of shackles attached to the wall that I hadn't noticed before. I waited for him to do the same to Hotch, but he didn't. "Don't just stand there, help her up!" he barked, waving his knife at Hotch. I held my breath as Agent Hotchner limped across the room to me. Avoiding eye contact, he grabbed me by the waist and pulled my body gently upward. I leaned against the cool block behind me as soon as he let go.

"What do you want?" Hotch growled, looking straight at Blake.

"I want to observe you," he responded innocently. With a grin, Henry reached up to pull back a panel above the door. Behind it, the red light of a video camera blinked. "It's already rolling. Don't tamper with it." Swinging his knife through the air one last time, Henry Blake cackled and slammed the metal door behind him.

"Are we in the basement?" I asked immediately, looking from Hotch to Spencer.

Agent Hotchner nodded grimly. "We just have to do what he says."

As soon as he said it, Spencer broke down in tears. "Please..." he pleaded, "Don't do it, Hotch..."

I didn't understand what they meant. Do what? "What? What did he tell you?" I demanded.

Hotch looked away. "I... It doesn't matter. I won't do it."

"Do what?!"

A dry laugh emanated from Spencer's throat. "If you don't want to say it, Hotch, then I will. He wants the two of you to make me jealous-it's his fantasy. It has to happen. The two of you have to fool around in front of me."

"Did he tell you that?" I asked in shock, "Are you sure...?"

This time Hotch answered. "I'm positive."

Shutting my eyes, I began to cry. It wasn't fair. I could either ruin things between Spencer and me, or get us all killed. It wasn't fair to Hotch and Spencer if my selfishness cost them their lives. My personal feelings meant nothing. "Okay," I whimpered, "I'll do it."

For the longest time, none of us moved. I caught my breath and struggled to walk toward Spencer. When I finally got there, I threw my arms around him and squeezed my eyes shut once more. I felt no comfort in our embrace; Spencer's restraints made it impossible for him to hold me. "I'm so sorry," I whispered into his chest, "I love you so much, you know that?"

The look in his eyes scared me. They looked darker somehow and full of fear. And it was all my fault. "I love you too," he murmured, "That will never change."

After clinging to him tightly for several more seconds and apologizing once more, I had to step back. I turned around and held out my hand to Agent Hotchner so he could help me back to the wall. "Are you okay?" he asked seriously, studying my face with scrutiny.

I stared at the cracked floor. "My chest hurts a little bit, but otherwise, I feel fine."

Hotch held me loosely in his arms for awhile, but I knew it had to happen. Leaning in slightly, I kissed him softly on the lips and tried to pretend he was Spencer. It didn't work.

What happened after that was indescribably awful. Just as my tolerance level hit about zero, the door flew open. Agent Morgan's gun was aimed squarely at my chest. Lying on the floor in my messed up clothes, I froze and tried to become invisible.

Morgan did not lower his gun. "It's not what it looks like," Hotch said sternly as he stood up. "Where's Blake?"

"Rossi and JJ should be able to handle him." Still appearing skeptical, he finally put his firearm away and looked at Reid. "As soon as they get the key, we'll get those shackles off of you, okay? Your mom is safe. We found her."

Spencer only nodded distractedly.

After helping me to my feet, Hotch and Morgan slowly led me up the stairs and out of the house. When I was finally left alone in one of the police cars, my emotions finally caught up with me. I loved Spencer, and I realized that now. I loved him so sickeningly much. Nothing could ever be the same, yet that was Henry Blake's plan all along. His fantasy wasn't idealistic at all. Ruining the lives of others was just something that amused him. I punched the seat as I heard the sirens of an ambulance approaching. Looking from the corner of my eye, I saw that Morgan and Hotch were in the middle of an intense yelling match. It wasn't my fault, I told myself. It was his. I could never forgive this man. Not ever.

As the emergency vehicle came to a stop, an officer opened the car door and carried me to the back of the ambulance. Someone started dabbing at my wounds, and we were off. The wounds would heal, but those inflicted on my heart would never. It was yet another thing I was forced to live with.

Hours later, I woke up in a hospital. My brother's worried face peered down at me from the side of the bed. "Cameryn," I chuckled, "What are you doing here?"

"I live here, you know," he said as he reached for my hand, "And you're hurt."

"I'm fine. Seriously. Do you know where my friends are? Are they safe?"

"You're friends with those FBI agents?" Cameryn asked in surprise, "They're next door I think."

I hoisted myself upward and started to swing my legs off the bed. "What are you doing? Are you out of your mind?!"

I looked at my brother's youthful face and laughed again. "I'm going to see if my friends are okay. Don't try to stop me."

Raising his eyebrows, my brother helped me to my feet and supported my waist as we made it out of my room and into the hall. Familiar voices floated out of a nearby door and brought a smile to my lips. Pushing Cameryn away, I made it into the room by myself. Hotch looked like his old self and was in the middle of a conversation with JJ from the bed. Next to him, Spencer sat in an uncomfortable looking chair, an icepack covering half his face. "Audrey!" he exclaimed as he stood up and helped me into a seat, "Why aren't you resting?"

"It sounds silly, but I just wanted to make sure everyone was okay."

"We're totally fine," he insisted, "It's you we're more worried about."

"Whatever drug they have me on is working," I laughed, "I can't feel a thing." Looking through the doorway, I noticed my brother was still awkwardly standing there. "This is my brother Cameryn," I told Spencer, motioning for him to come into the room, "He's the one I assured you wasn't a serial killer."

Spencer shook Cameryn's hand briefly with his free hand and resumed icing his face. "Nice to meet you, nonserial killer Cameryn."

After a short period of idle banter, a nurse finally came into the room to get me. I was whisked away before I could hug Spencer, but I knew everything was okay. He had acted like nothing happened- which was fine with me.

Yet after another hour of lying in my hospital room alone, I was starting start to feel bereft. My brother had gone back to his family for the night, and Spencer was being held in another room. I just couldn't sleep. It was only natural to be afraid, right? Removing the image of Henry Blake's face from my mind would take time.

Several minutes later, a knock came at the door. I began to feel much better when I saw it was Spencer escorted by a plump nurse. "I realize visiting hours are over, but seeing as Dr. Reid is technically another patient, I don't have a problem with it."

"Thanks," I told her as Spencer slid onto the bed next to me.

"Are you feeling okay?"

He'd already asked me, but I answered anyway. "I'm feeling fine," I sighed tiredly. A sharp pain shot up my arm, and I looked down to see that the nurse had pricked me with a needle.

"Just taking some more blood," she explained.

"Again?"

"Standard procedure. How much do you weigh again?" She clicked her pen and looked at me expectantly. I was embarrassed with Spencer in the room, but told her all the same.

"125.6 pounds," I grumbled.

After she left, Spencer put his arm around me and brushed the hair from my eyes. "You've never looked more beautiful," he whispered.

I cracked a smile. "You always say that."

"It's true. I mean it."

Picking at a loose thread on my sheets, I avoided looking at him while I spoke. "You're not mad at me for what I did, are you?"

It was a long time before he answered, and I got the sense he was choosing his words very carefully. "You saved lives today, Audrey. You did what you had to do... And I-Well, I said nothing could change things, and nothing has. I'm not mad, but it does kind of make me sad. It shouldn't, but it does."

"It hurts me too," I said honestly. "I've never felt guiltier."

"It was my fault..." The room felt different after he said it. Quieter maybe.

"But-"

"I should have stopped you, Audrey. I had a bad feeling about it from the beginning. I knew it was a trick, but I let you go anyways. And I was so horrible to you. I'll never forgive myself."

There was nothing I could have come up with to make things any different. It would be stupid to try. "These beds are really crappy," I commented, trying to lighten the mood. "It's like lying on a pile of rocks."

He ignored my attempt at a subject change completely. "Audrey?" Spencer turned to face me and directed his gentle gaze at my face. "Will you... Um, be my girlfriend?" His voice seemed to waver on the word "girlfriend."

I swallowed hard and actually started crying. Reaching for the box of tissues next to me, I blew my nose loudly and tried to speak. "Of-of course," I managed to get out, "I practically am already."

"Then why are you crying?"

"Because... Because I'm really happy. No one has ever been this nice to me before... I almost don't know how to react."

The soft touch of his hand grazed the side of my face, and I knew everything would be okay between us. Where did Spencer even learn how to do that? "Go to sleep," he whispered, "I'll be right here."

I felt too excited to sleep, but closed my eyes all the same. This was perfection, and nothing could screw that up.

But everything could change in the morning.


	9. Chapter 9

I was alone when the nurse woke me up. After she took my temperature and left, it hit me all at once. Fragments of nightmares washed over my mind as I remembered what happened. _Stop it. Spencer loves you. Forget about it. _

But I couldn't. I looked down at my hands and saw I was clenching my fists again. The sting induced from my sharp nails was becoming a habitual tendency. Forcing myself to loosen my grip, I shut my eyes. I tried my best to block out any images of Henry Blake or Aaron Hotchner. _Was Spencer really here last night?_ At present, reality was impossible to distinguish from twisted memories.

I distracted myself with a cursory examination of the room. The blur of white that surrounded me was oddly depressing. Not a single window granted me access to the outside world, and it bothered me for some reason. If one cannot see the world in which they live, are they really living at all?

_Yes_, I told myself, _I'm living._

It seems appropriate to halt the story for a second. Though it might seem random, I have been extremely vague about events in my past, and that's unfair to you. I'll keep it simple.

When I was a teenager, I had often questioned the meaning of life. _What was reality?_ It was a question that tormented my mind. It was the reason hospitals felt so familiar. It was why my mother was so disappointed in me. It was the reason I become hopelessly depressed. As a result of this, I tried to kill myself when I was fifteen years old. It ruined my life, yet I can hardly recall what happened. All I remember is waking up to a bright, invasive light. That light seemed to prod my very soul and question my strength. Even to this day, it haunts me.

But back to what you care about. Ahem. Any other girl would be happy to have a boyfriend, right? A normal person would be desperate for one, but me? I felt nothing. To know you love someone-now that's just scary. I blame my fear for the numbness that consumed me.

"Boyfriend..." I muttered aloud. The word felt foreign on my lips after all these years. My last experience with that word had been so painful. I couldn't think about it. Even now, I just can't.

A soft knock on the door caused my heart to start racing. When I saw it was JJ, I tried to hide my sheer disappointment. "Come in," I managed to croak.

Her black pants made a swishing sound as she crossed the linoleum and sat down. "How are you feeling?" she asked quietly.

To be honest, all I'd been thinking about was my depressing state. I had no idea how I felt at all. Letting my eyelids close for a moment, I tried to focus.

"I feel terrible."

Surprisingly, it was true. I don't know why I continually surprise myself-but I do. It's like someone else is talking for me occasionally.

When JJ asked what the matter was, I tried to be nice. I had just been stabbed-what did she_ think_ was wrong? The partial truth seemed a better course. "I'm hungry," I stated simply.

She sighed and made a sympathetic grimace. "I'll go get you something to eat then. Hospital food is horrible, but it's the best I can do."

"Thanks," I forced myself to say cheerfully, "And have you seen Spencer?"

"He's fine, so the doctors told him to go home. He wanted to stay...but Hotch reminded him he has files to sort through. I'm sure he'll be back later though. Don't worry."

I looked at the clock on the wall. It was barely 10:30am. After "enjoying" a quick lunch consisting of the sandwich and cookie JJ brought me, it was still only eleven o'clock. I groaned.

My loneliness was cut short when my phone rang. I honestly had no idea it had been sitting next to me until now.

The screen told me it was Spencer.

"Hello?" My throat felt awfully scratchy as I cleared it.

His voice sounded panicky which scared me a little bit. "Audrey...I'm sorry. I had to leave. I told JJ to tell you, and I hope she did, I mean, I didn't really want to leave, but obviously I did, and there's so much stuff to sort through here, like I don't even know what's going on, and I'm sure you look lovely, but-"

"Spencer?" I asked, "Are you okay? JJ already told me. It's fine."

He made a noticeable effort to slow down his words as he continued. "Oh good, I just... I'm sorry. Let me know how I can make it up to you."

"When are you coming back?" I whined childishly.

The sigh on the other end of the line wasn't a hopeful indication. "I don't know," he mumbled, "I think my mind just needs a break from thinking about everything. Organizing all these files is strangely comforting."

"I wish I had some files to sort through right about now... I mean, you're not the one who got stabbed." I regretted the poisoned comment as soon as it left my lips.

"I-I'm sorry! It was my fault, and I'm going to hate myself forever because of it. There's nothing I can do... I just... I really want to forget about it, Audrey, I really do, but you...and Hotch...and...sometimes I really can't take it anymore... It's so hard..." The sniffles pouring through my phone's speaker told me Spencer was crying. He was probably just sitting there in the middle of headquarters, crying for everyone to see.

I gulped. "Spencer... I didn't mean it that way. It's not okay that I did that. I wanted everyone to make it out alive, and at the time, it seemed reasonable. Can you agree that's a reasonable thing?"

"Don't do this to me..."

Nothing I said would be right. It seemed all I could do was hurt Spencer's feelings. Over and over again. "Okay," I muttered, "Forget it. We can talk about it when you stop by again."

"What if I don't want to talk about it?"

"...Then we won't."

There wasn't anything else to be said. I knew Spencer sensed it too. "Um, well I have to go... Bye, Audrey. I'll visit you soon, I promise. Someday this whole thing will seem really trivial, won't it?"

My voice hardened. "No. I don't think it will ever seem trivial." I knew it was wrong, but I hung up. I was going to lose control.

I stayed in the hospital for six more days, but Spencer never visited. JJ and Morgan would check in on me every once in a while, yet they too stopped eventually. My chest was healing "nicely." The nurses told me this all the time. Even so, I had never felt so sick. Food was becoming increasingly difficult to swallow. That being said, I couldn't have been more shocked when they told me the unthinkable. I could leave.

"You're releasing me?!" I shouted at the woman who brought me the news.

A nod was all I got in return. So much for friendliness.

When I got home, I plugged my cell phone into the wall. It had died days ago. As soon as I turned it on, it displayed several missed calls from Spencer and some other number, but I deleted the voicemails without even listening. It would only make me cry.

Not even five minutes later, the phone exploded into violent buzzing. I couldn't ignore him any longer.

"Spencer?" I asked as I answered.

"Audrey! You didn't answer my calls, and I was worried! Are you home right now? JJ called and said you were released."

"Why didn't you visit me then?"

An awkward pause. "I... It's silly, but I was afraid you'd be mad."

"And this is better somehow?"

"It's not," he admitted, "I see that now... Where are you?"

"At my apartment," I grumbled, kicking off my shoes dejectedly.

"Then I'll be right over."

"But Spenc-"

The line clicked before I could even ask how he knew my address. I always went over to _his_ apartment, not the other way around. A thin layer of dust seemed to cover every inch of my place. It bothered me, but I was way too tired to clean.

When the doorbell rang, I didn't even move. "It's open," I shouted over my shoulder.

Spencer's footsteps shuffled across the carpet as he made his way to where I was sitting. Unlike his apartment, the living room and kitchen of my place occupied the same room. "What's up?" I asked as he situated himself beside me. "Did Garcia look up where I live?" He nodded. "I figured," I muttered without much feeling.

Instead of pulling me into his arms like anyone else would, he just stared at the floor. "Are you okay?"

"Fine."

"It's not fine," he grumbled, burying his face in his hands, "I don't want to feel this way..."

Spencer was right...As always. "Look at me, Spencer." He did. "Come here."

I held out my arms and didn't even scream as he collapsed into my injured body. "Shh." I kissed the top of his head and just let him cry it out. "I love you," I offered. This just made him cry harder.

"I want to feel safe again," he whispered after the longest time.

"Me too," I murmured, "me too."

"Can I stay here...? I really don't want to be alone right now."

"Sure, Spencer. It's nice that you're finally being honest with me."

It was barely seven o'clock by the time the we agreed to sleep. Neither of us felt like eating anything.

As I slipped under the cool sheets in my bedroom, I could barely keep my eyes open. "Spencer?" I mumbled deliriously, "My stomach hurts..."

Making a very serious face, he leaned over to delicately kiss the cloth covering my stomach and then my cheek. "Feel better then."

I smiled and wished I could. I really did. "Goodnight, Spencer. Sweet dreams."

"Mhmm. You too." As soon as he rolled over, I felt myself gradually pass out. I was feeling better already. A lack of consciousness would be comforting.

My eyes flew open. According to my clock, it was currently 3a.m. My phone was buzzing like crazy from the living room, and I prayed Spencer couldn't hear it. Tiptoeing quickly through the darkness, I read the caller ID. "Unknown" flashed across the screen, but I answered anyway. I knew who it was.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I asked irritably, "It's really early... And I have someone over here right now."

"Are they asleep?" The hushed female voice asked.

"Yeah. I think so."

A rush of relief seemed to wash over her. "Oh good," she gushed, "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me. I tried to call you earlier in the week."

"I was in the hospital... Long story, but I'm okay."

"You're not cutting yourself again, are you?!" Her voice was louder than I would've liked.

"Shh, calm down. No... It's not that." Knowing her, I doubted she would press any further into the issue. She didn't.

"We'll talk later then. Just checking in." The phone beeped as she hung up. Any other person and this would've been rude, but I knew my best friend. She had to be quick. As I steathily slithered back into bed, I hoped the lying would stop soon. I wanted to tell Spencer everything. Needed to, really.

The trust I felt for him was overwhelming. It wasn't fair, but then again, nothing ever was. I guess my secrets would have to wait for another day.


	10. Chapter 10, part one

(POV Change)

Spencer uncapped his pen and drummed his fingers on the desk's polished surface. From the shadows of his bedroom, he told himself this was what needed to be done.

Moments ago, birds had been chirping from within the trees. The notes lingered in the stuffy air and soon ceased altogether. Too many things were left unexplained in Spencer's life. He needed answers. Phone calls in the night, violent mood swings, loss of interest; these were her symptoms. Over the past month, Audrey was falling apart before his eyes. Clearly, it was time for an intervention, right? Since Spencer realized he would lose his nerve if he brought these problems up aloud, he decided a letter would work just as effectively. It went something like this:

_Audrey, _

_First of all, I want to say that I know I love you. Please don't take what I am about to say the wrong way. You're really wonderful. Most of the time when I look at you, I just feel so confused. My IQ drops to about zero, and I have trouble determining which way is up. Those feelings of confusion have only grown stronger as of late. But I am not confused because of love; I am confused because of your behavior. Do you think I don't notice when you sneak out of bed to answer your phone? Is it wrong that I looked through your call history? I am so sorry. Curiosity and jealousy got the best of me. But you know what? No one. No one has called you because you deleted all your call history. All of it. I know this makes me sound incredibly pathetic, but I don't entirely mind if you're cheating on me. I mean, I'd be sad, but I would still love you. In fact, I think I might always love you. Please share what you're hiding from me. You can tell me anything. Go ahead. You can trust me. _

_We can work through this because we're stronger than other people. Stronger than my own parents even-because we have something so many others lack. We are so cautious and full of reason. Let's continue to be weird science geeks together, just you and me. Communication-that's all I'm asking for. I love you, Audrey, but sometimes (most of the time), I just can't understand you._

_Much Love,_

_Spencer_

_Audrey's POV_

__I didn't even hear Spencer let himself in with his key. His footsteps were silent against my soft carpet. I rubbed my eyes and realized I hadn't gotten out of bed yet. A glace at my alarm clock informed me that it was already four o'clock in the afternoon.

The shadow of a frowzy-haired figure projected itself onto the wall to my left. There was only one person it could be. Being the respectful person that he was, Spencer knocked on my bedroom door before entering. Any normal person would have been terrifyied to have an intruder in their home, but I was only slightly irritated. "It's too early to get up. Go home."

"Actually, it's almost dinner time," Spencer stated plainly.

I pushed myself upright. "I know."

He extended a slender hand to help me up and sighed. "You've been acting really strange lately... I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Well, we need to talk about this, you know? It's my job to take care of you."

I sulked all the way to my living room and threw myself down on the sofa. Spencer asked if I was hungry, but I just shook my head. Everything tasted insipid nowadays; there was no point. "What do you want?" I asked groggily.

He sighed again and perched himself on the chair opposite me. I was starting to get a little uneasy. "I wanted to give you this," the man I hardly new anymore mumbled.

It turned out "this" was a slightly rumpled envelope.

I just held it stupidly in my hands. "Open it," he directed me quietly.

I fumbled with the paper until a folded letter slid out into my tired hands. I glanced up at Spencer before unfolding it. He looked incredibly nervous. As my eyes swept across Spencer's messy scrawl, my stomach sank. "How sweet of you," I muttered when I finished.

The look of disappointment on his face nearly broke my heart. "I thought..." he whispered, "I thought maybe you would consider seeing a therapist or-"

Whenever someone mentions the word "therapist," I tend to explode. That single word evokes memories that I've worked much too hard to supress. And explode. I. did. "No. I am _NOT_ some LITTLE BIPOLAR IDIOT WHO NEEDS A THERAPIST! WHAT ABOUT YOU? DO _YOU_ NEED A THERAPIST? OBVIOUSLY,_ YOU_ HAVE A LOT OF PROBLEMS!"

Spencer didn't say anything. He just picked at a loose thread on the chair. "I-I'm so sorry... I was wrong... It's okay. You know, just forget it."

I couldn't take this anymore. Spencer always had to play the victim. Fighting back tears, I stood up. "I'm sorry, Spence."

"Don't call me that," he muttered just as irritably, "You have no right to call me that."

I balked. My lungs seemed to lose all air in a single instant. I turned my entire body around to face him. "Why?" I demanded.

"Because only JJ calls me that." He paused. "And I've been in love with her forever."

Without even thinking, I smashed his letter and threw it to the carpet. Making a dash for my bedroom, I slammed the door behind me and locked it. I crawled to the corner to let it out, but I couldn't. I seemed fresh out of tears.

A half hour must have ticked by. Just when I was sure Spencer had gone home, a timid tap sounded from the other side of my door. "Go away," I grumbled. He did no such thing. After a few clicks from within the lock, my bedroom door swung open. "Did you just pick that lock?!"

Spencer put something back in his pocket and smiled shyly. "Yeah, I've always wanted to try it." There are certain moments when I'm not sure if Spencer is really himself-this was one of those moments.

In two swift strides, he was beside me. Spencer pulled me into his lap with surprising strength. "I lied." It was all he said, but I understood what he meant.

His button-up shirt felt cool against my face and its familiar scent made it impossible to stay angry. I wondered if this effect was intentional. "I lied too," I murmured. "You don't have a lot of problems."

"You know, it's okay to see a therapist. I'll go with you. Maybe we can sort out everything together. Would you, um, consider that?"

My voice faltered within my throat. "Yeah."

Spencer kissed my forehead. I just patted his hand lamely.

One week later, I found myself in an uncomfortable chair next to Spencer. We were in Dr. Camplin's office. It turns out Spencer had been serious when he talked about seeing a therapist; he had even missed a flight to Oregon with his team just to go with me. I felt my palms getting moist and wiped them quickly on my pants. Spencer seemed unable to look at me. "Tell her about the phone calls."

"She doesn't need to know about that." I shot a wild glance in his direction, yet Spencer was still looking straight at Dr. Camplin.

Dr. Camplin removed her dark-rimmed glasses and folded her hands on the desk. "What phone calls? Please explain. I assure you, Audrey. Everything said here is extremely _confidential_. That means that I won't repeat what you say to _anyone_."

I looked her directly in the eye. "I know what 'confidential' means."

"My apologies. Now, about the phone calls?"

I laughed dryly. "It's an old friend of mine. She lives in hiding and doesn't have anyone else to talk to. She can only call me at weird times-like in the middle of the night."

Spencer gave away little expression, but Dr. Camplin did not hold back. She let out a false laugh and put on a facetious smile that reminded me of my creepy English professor. "Now, now. There is no reason to lie. If this mysterious person were, let's just say for the purpose of conversation, another _man_-"

"Is that what you think?!" I couldn't take her crap any longer. "I think I'd rather just talk to Spencer about this myself! How much are we paying you anyway? All you do is talk down to people and expect their problems to fix themselves. You're a complete and utter idiot!"

"It's okay," she responded forcefully. "Have a tissue. Get over it."

"No, I will _not_ be getting over it," I snapped. "We're leaving. Now."

"That went well," Spencer muttered as I slammed the door to my mustang behind me.

I stayed silent for a while. "Was that really the truth about those phone calls?" he asked timidly.

I nodded.

"Then why didn't you just tell me?"

A sigh escaped my throat. "Because I wanted to _protect_ her. It wasn't the time to drop another burden on you."

"You're not a burden, Audrey," Spencer said smoothly, "You're a blessing."

I didn't respond.

"My mother used to tell me that all the time," he added.

"I'd love to meet her sometime."

The rest of the car ride played out in silence.

In the month that followed, Spencer hardly ever went anywhere with the rest of his team. He had his brilliant mind fixed on taking care of me. Every once in a while, Garcia or JJ would call to check on me. I looked forward to these occasions which is why, one day, I dashed to answer my ringing cell phone. It was not from my secret friend, Garcia, or JJ. Spencer had run to the store to get some milk, but it wasn't from his number either.

I answered it anyway.

"Hello?" I asked shyly.

"Is this Audrey Borders?"

I responded cautiously. "Yes. And who is this?"

"Sam Blakely. I'm with the FBI. There's an opening at our field office in the state of Alaska. You would be stationed there within two weeks. If not, I can't say there will be another opportunity soon... Are you still interested in a career with us?"

I closed my eyes to think it over. With the direction my life was headed in, I had to admit... It _did_ sound rather appealing. "Is it okay if I think it over for a night?" I asked slowly, "I'm quite interested, I assure you. Can you give me one day before calling anybody else? Is that okay?"

"Okay, miss. Call me at this number as soon as you've made a desicion."

"I will."

The line beeped.

I had barely gotten the phone back in my purse before Spencer walked through my apartment's front door. "They didn't have skim, so I had to get one percent...I hope that's okay."

It took me a few second to realize Spencer was talking about varieties of milk. "Oh," I mused, "That's perfectly alright."

My mood had brightened considerably since talking to Sam Blakely on the phone. The look of confusion on Spencer's face showed that he sensed it too.

After the first lively dinner we'd had together in a long time, I felt myself become extremely relaxed. I hadn't felt this relaxed around anyone since I was a child.

"Spencer," I said evenly, "Do you want to go to bed?"

He raised his soft brown eyebrows at me. "Sure... But isn't a little early for sleeping?"

I looked him square in the face. "I don't recall saying anything about sleeping. I asked if, um, you wanted to go to bed with me."

Spencer blinked several times and looked at the table. "Well then. I... I would actually. Sure."

I woke up at four a.m. the next morning. _I'm acting crazy, _I thought to myself. A thin crack running through my ceiling distracted me. I blinked to make sense of my surroundings. All night, I'd been thinking about it. I knew my answer to Sam Blakely's question.

I reawakened three hours later, but Spencer was still fast asleep. I had to call him before I lost my nerve. Being careful not to shake the mattress, I slid out of bed and shrugged on my robe.

The phone felt slippery in my nervous hand. I looked through my recent calls and hit send when I got to the number I was looking for.

It seemed to ring forever. Finally, a gruff voice answered. "Sam Blakely, FBI."

I swallowed. "Hello, this is Audrey Borders! I talked to you yesterday about that job opening," I said brightly.

"I remember," he said without expression, "Have you thought it over?"

"Yes. And I've decided that I'm taking it."

Sam surprised me by laughing at the other end. "Well then! I hope you like cold weather. It's practically Siberia up there."

"I don't mind the cold."

Blakely stopped laughing. "Okay then. I'll let my supervisor know. You have two weeks to settle everything over there in Quantico."

"Okay then. Sounds good to me." But it did _not_ sound good to me.

I decided I would wait a while before telling Spencer.

I spent the next two days in Phoenix. I told Spencer I was seeing my mother, but if he knew more about me, he'd know otherwise. The weather was sweaty and hot there as always. He hadn't offered to go with me. So why was I really there? To confront my worst nightmare. (After my experience with Henry Blake, my mother was no longer my worst nightmare.)

I took a bus to the prison. Usually, I'm a pretty impatient person, but I wanted that bus ride to last forever. I'd already gone to all this trouble, so there was no giving up now. As the bus screeched to a halt in front of tall chain-link fences, I forced myself to step down onto the hot pavement. _Now or never._

The gruff woman at the front desk gave me a visitor's pass and sent me into another room for a full-body scan. It did nothing to soothe my nerves. A guard sporting a stupid expression on his face came shortly to escort me to the high-security cells.

_Click. Click. Click. Thump. Thump. Thump_. Each _click_ of my dress shoes sped up the_ thump_ing of my heart. I saw that none of the cell doors had windows. They must have been sound-proofed because the silence was deafening. It was a true oxymoron.

Finally, we reached a door that looked like any other door you might come across if you ever find yourself strolling through the high-security part of a prison. The guard slid a card in the slot next to the steel door. It opened outward without a sound.

The inside was larger than I had imagined but smaller than any room you'd like to live in. Truth be told, people tend to remember the things we find most frightening. As proof, we dream more often about things that worry us than we do about those that bring us joy. At this moment, I found Henry Blake to be the most frightening object in the harsh lighting of the cell. His skin was almost as pale as the white walls that surrounded us and blended in with the straight jacket bound tightly around his wirey frame.

The guard offered to bring me a chair, but I politely declined. He nodded and went to stand quietly in the corner. I didn't wait for Blake to strike up a conversation. I was here for closure and nothing more.

"You don't look so good," I commented without feeling the least bit sorry for him. "But as for me, I feel just wonderful." He didn't say anything to me, but smirked slightly in acknowledgement. I smirked right on back. "You know, you remind me of my first boyfriend."

"You would date someone like me?" he hissed. A fire danced in his unforgiving eyes that I was sure would cease to burn someday. I decided I would ignore his inane comments as long as I lived.

My lips seemed to move on their own as I continued. "I hated my first boyfriend. He was into death and anything having to do with blood. Looking back, I'm certain he was sociopathic-he wasn't a psychopath like you though. He only cared about his mother and a girl named Kate. I knew he loved Kate more than me; oh, I could just _feel_ it. But you-you don't love anybody, do you? ...Perhaps not even yourself."

A cold stare collided with my eyes, yet I forced my story onward. "One day, my boyfriend invited me over to his house for the hundredth time, and I finally agreed just to shut him up. We sat on the floor of his room. I was drawing a cartoon picture and he was trying to fix his music player. And you know what he asked me? He asked me to bite his neck. It was so awful-I was mentally unstable enough to do it. And then do you know what he did? After I went home, he showed it to his family. I was never allowed back there... After that, he would constantly ramble about how much he wanted me to cut him open...and his desire for _human_ flesh. He said that 'Donovan' was talking to him and that the voices wouldn't leave him alone anymore. I just couldn't take it."

"So he was masochistic _and_ a cannibal _and_ a schizophrenic?" Henry sounded disturbingly impressed. His wet tongue swept across his chapped lips, sending waves of terror down my back.

"He...He wanted to eat me, and his friends, and oh, _especially_ Kate. I was terrified, but I couldn't tell anyone. The entire time I had just played along with the whole thing. It was the end that was quite strange. He didn't answer my calls for an entire month, and I started to get worried. I called his friend's phone, and conveniently, my boyfriend was there at his house. He passed the phone to him, and I quickly brought up the subject of us breaking up. And he dumped me. He dumped me before I even had a chance to dump _him_."

"You're quite the control freak aren't you?" Blake mused with a grin full of yellow teeth.

"I suppose you could say that. Yes."

"But what does that have to do with me? You came here for a reason, didn't you? Get to the point, _darling_."

"I came here to show you that I'm fine. Spencer is fine. Agent Hotchner and Morgan are fine."

Blake gave away no expression. "Good for you guys."

At that moment, I can up with a plan. If I could pull it off, I would trick Blake into a life of misery. I chose my words with absolute care. "Does it bother you that we're out there living our lives while you're stuck in here paying for our sorrows? Does it bother you that we're transferring our pain to you? Now you're stuck with not only their pain, but _my_ pain. I'm not talking about what happened to me with Hotch and Spencer. I'm talking about the pain that's been haunting me my entire life. All that stuff I just told you? About my crazy boyfriend? That's yours to deal with now. It doesn't bother me anymore."

Before Blake could say anything, I nodded to the guard. Henry's breathing became ragged and his eyes narrowed. "You're wrong!" He bellowed, "STOP! You have no idea what line you just-please! It's not FAIR! It is not your place to-"

But I never heard what it wasn't my place to do. The guard swung the door shut behind me and I grinned with true satisfaction for the first time in over ten years. "What kind of punishment does he get for yelling at someone like that? Two days without dinner?"

The guard avoided meeting my gaze, but I could see something was twinkling there in his eyes. "I suppose that's only fair."

And as I stepped off the plane in DC, I guess you could say there was a little extra spring in my step. The only hard part left was telling Spencer. It was unfair to keep him in the dark about my new job any longer. I knew it was wrong, but revenge seemed to have just solved all of my problems.

I couldn't have been more mistaken.


	11. Chapter 10, part two

_Note: I did not go into detail about Reid's relationship with Maeve because it would be such a time-waster. If you haven't seen the new season of Criminal Minds, I hope I haven't confused you. Enjoy. This is the last chapter, and I have loved each and every one of your comments. I am truly thankful. -AK_

Things with Spencer had been strained since I told him I was headed for Alaska. I said goodbye to the BAU, bearable temperatures, and hardest of all, him.

It was a Monday, and I was standing in front of Spencer's door. I knew he wouldn't be home. I knocked and waited for a ridiculous amount of time, thinking about how this was all my fault. There was time the night before to say goodbye, but I was so _tired_. I knocked one last time and hastily scribbled a note for him. After sliding it between the door and the frame, I hurried to the bus stop. My red mustang had been sold the day before, but it already felt ages ago.

I waited for my boarding pass, stumbled through security, and vaguely recall boarding the plane. The flight was supposed to stop somewhere to let most of the passengers off. I was sure none of them were switching flights to Alaska. Their smiling faces made the idea preposterous.

That was it. Alaska was my biggest mistake.

Footsteps. Spencer had run to pick up his work, and was now dashing up the slippery stairs to Audrey's apartment. There was still time before she had to go to the airport, right? His shoes clamored up the wet steps, producing the frantic sound like that of his heart. _Aud-rey, Aud-rey, Aud-rey,_ they thumped. Her door was open ajar, so Spencer didn't bother to knock. The living room was empty. Heart pounding, he could barely make out the sound of singing floating out of her bedroom. "Audrey!" he exclaimed as he darted into the room.

Audrey wasn't there. The woman's nametag read "Rosa," and she was screaming.

He didn't stick around to hear what the housekeeper was yelling in Spanish.

Maybe she was at his apartment, looking for _him._ It was his last hope. He left the car running as he hurried to his door.

Audrey was nowhere in sight. A brightly colored sticky note fluttered to the ground when the door swung open.

That was at Audrey's house had been the biggest mistake of his life. The note represnted those extra seconds he could have had with her, but she was gone. Blinking through the rain and his own tears, it took him a total of five times to comprehend her words.

_You were at work. I know you love me. I miss you._

That was all she had to say? He flipped it over in his shaking hands. A phone number had been scribbled on the back.

_Call her. She doesn't know. Say goodbye for me._

__Maybe he'd screamed when he finally understood those words. Spencer would never fully recall what happened that day. It was the note that ended his life while saving it, only to end it once more. She'd been wrong. Audrey had been so afraid of trusting_ him_ that he'd forgotten to control his trust for _her_. He longed for Dilaudid, anything to quell the pain. After an hour of pacing that he wouldn't remember in the morning, Spencer passed out on his couch. It marked an end to his happiness.

Three unremarkable days later, he called the mysterious number from a telephone booth. Whoever her secret friend was, they didn't deserve to know his personal cell phone number.

Someone picked up the phone on the other line but said nothing. A hiss of breathing followed.

"Hello?" Spencer inquired quietly. Still no answer. "Audrey told me to-"

"Where is she? What's happened to her?"

The woman's concern startled Spencer. "Um... Well, she's gone somewhere very far away. She wanted me to say goodbye to you. I don't know who you are, but I-I think she liked you very much."

"I'm Maeve," the voice answered, "Audrey was my best friend...I...I'll miss her. Did you know her well?"

Spencer spoke flatly. "I thought I did."

"Who are you?"

"I was her-I mean, I'm Spencer."

"You sound very upset, Spencer."

"Of course I am... I was in love with her."

"You're not alone. Many people were...Don't be so angry with yourself. She's not dead, is she?"

"No."

Maeve's tone seemed to overflow with relief. "Listen, she won't abandon you forever. Every few years, she does this to me...But she always comes back. We have difficult lives, her and me."

"But why-"

"I'm sorry, Spencer, I have to go. If this phone call is too long, it might raise suspiscion. Never call me from anywhere traceable, but I assure you, you can give me a call again if you're stuck thinking about her. I know we'll move on with our lives. We should talk again sometime, okay?"

"Okay, but-"

"You're a good man." The line beeped.

I lived in Alaska for five years. There were cases I solved and cases I didn't. Garcia and JJ stopped sending me letters after the months I'd spent ignoring them, but I didn't care anymore.

The phone rang in the middle of the day. Snow had blocked the roads, so I was home alone. It took me several moments to recognize the voice.

"JJ?" I asked awkwardly.

"Glad I could finally get a hold of you, Audrey. We never forgot about you over here...Um, listen, they've found Maeve's will, and she's left you _everything_. Her apartment's been resold and most of her furniture is gone, but her parents have all the rest waiting for you. There's a large sum of money waiting for you as well."

"What?!" I shouted, "What will? Is Maeve... Is she really... dead?"

I heard JJ take in a sharp breath. "She's been dead for four years...I thought you-well, I thought that Spencer told you."

"Spencer Reid?" His name felt foreign on my tongue. "We haven't talked since I left D.C."

It was hard to say which of us was more surprised. "Oh... Well, I'm sure he's eager to see you... Is there any way you could fly out here soon? I mean, to talk to Maeve's parents and settle the money issue?"

"I'll talk to my boss and see what I can do... But JJ?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you not tell Spencer yet? Even when we settle this and I call you back, do you promise not to mention it?"

"Yes, I promise... And Audrey?"

"Hm?"

"Don't forget how much he loved you. Maeve's death really tore him up, but he's moved on... With you though, it was different. I know he doesn't ever talk about it, but I can tell he thinks about you. He's never been quite the same. Just be careful what you do when you get here. He may not want to see you again."

"Whatever his desicion is, I'm okay with it." And it was true.

"I'll talk to you later, Audrey."

"Bye, JJ."

Spencer squinted into the mirror as he washed his hands. The creases in his forehead were getting deeper, but there was nothing he could do about it. He had just turned thirty-seven years old with the burden of a man twice his age. It wasn't just him; everyone looked older. Hotch's hair was losing its color, JJ's son seemed much too old, Garcia was pregnant, and Rossi was retiring.

As he left the bathroom, Agent Morgan greeted him with a broad smile that never seemed to fade. "Now that Rossi's gone, you never know... You could be moving up."

He raised his eyebrows at the man who had become his best friend. "Leading the team isn't for me. I don't think I have the makings of a strong leader."

Morgan laughed and patted him on the back. "Go get your coffee and think about why that statement is completely untrue, pretty boy. You're one of the bravest men I know-and I know Hotch."

Still shaking his head at Morgan, a drop of hot coffee scorched Spencer's hand. It didn't matter. There was so much coffee in the world, so much crime, and only _one_ her. It was right here, by this very coffee maker, that Spencer had talked to her for the first time. Years ago, the thought would have made him sad, but now it had a strange sense of comfort. Maeve was dead, but Audrey was safe. She was somewhere better, too far away for him to hurt her anymore.

But he was wrong. Audrey was not far away. He was on his way to her right then, though he did not know it. In just a few moments, he would be in the conference room and most certainly in her arms.

Waiting in the chair Spencer always sat in, a smile crossed Audrey's lips. She was not afraid. After all, she trusted him-loved him even.

Spencer Reid's hand began to turn the doorknob. He had no idea what was waiting for him on the other side of that door.

It was the woman he loved.

It was his resurrection.

It was Audrey.


End file.
